What Is Forest Bathing?
By Barbara Field
Halfpoint / Getty Images
June 30, 2021
Halfpoint / Getty Images
June 30, 2021
WHAT IS FOREST BATHING?
Forest bathing is based on the Japanese practice, shinrin-yoku, which can be translated as “taking in the medicine or atmosphere of the forest.” While forest bathing began in Japan in the 1980s, it has recently grown more popular worldwide. Born in response to high levels of work stress and a spike in rates of autoimmune disease, forest bathing was also adapted to improve the economy of rural areas that lost people migrating to cities. Forest bathing has become an eco-friendly, healthy antidote to our tech-saturated world. The positive impact of spending time in nature is proven. It turns out that walking and relaxing in this type of immersive experience amongst the trees offers various health benefits. That’s why forest bathing is also called forest therapy. Nature Can Improve Mental Health During the Pandemic, Study FindsBenefits of Forest Bathing How is the practice of spending time in a lush environment good for you? When you take time in this natural green world to “be” with intention and in a fully present way, research shows many mind-body benefits. Mindfulness One of the obvious benefits of taking a walk in nature is getting away from screens. At the same time, when we enjoy nature, we are also turning off rumination, worry, and obsessive thinking. Instead, we are taking a break and allowing ourselves time to recharge and appreciate. Forest bathing involves mindfulness. We can achieve a state of mindfulness through various forms of meditation but also through everyday living. During forest bathing, like during mindful activities, we are heightening our senses, suspending judgment, and focusing on the “now.” Tree Oil Plants and trees emit a substance called phytoncide. This essential oil protects plants and trees from insects and germs. Their antimicrobial properties may influence immunity. Breathing in forest air increases the level of natural killer (NK) cells in our blood. Our body uses these NK cells to combat infections and cancers. One Japanese study showed a rise in the number and activity of these NK cells by people who forest bathe. In addition to affecting immune system function, phytoncides improve sleep, lift mood and attention, and boost creativity. Stress Reduction The positive effects of forest bathing are becoming more well known. In one recent study, participants who habitually walked through forests showed evidence of lowered blood pressure. Exposure to the tree oil and strolls through the forest may also contribute to reduced anxiety. Past scientific research found that forest bathers showed evidence of reduced stress hormones such as adrenaline and noradrenaline in their bodies. Forest bathing has been proven to help those experiencing not just a temporary stressful situation but chronic stress. In fact, in addition to other stress management tools, forest bathing is becoming an increasingly popular stress reduction method. Psychologists are recommending forest therapy to decrease the risk of psychosocial stress-related diseases. In one research study, researchers reviewed six studies about forest therapy published between 2010 and 2020. Forest therapy was deemed a cost-effective modality that promoted overall psychological well-being and could be used for those experiencing stress and mental health challenges. The results demonstrated a “significant positive correlation between nature, mindfulness, and measures of psychological well-being.” |
How Do I Start a Forest Bathing Practice?
Forest bathing is a simple way to relax and revitalize. We trust our bodies and our senses, and we go at our own pace. Forest bathing requires a commitment to a regular practice; it’s not a one-and-done quick fix or panacea. Research in England on green spaces showed spending at least 120 minutes a week in nature is associated with good health and well-being. It doesn’t matter whether you break up the two hours into shorter walks in a local park filled with lots of trees or an afternoon under the canopy of a forest. Just remember to forest bathe regularly, even if you have to schedule the time on your calendar. Opting for a speedy walk through nature and rushing through the activity to get back to work, let’s say, may not be as effective. Nor is it advised to play loud music as you walk. Forest bathing requires a different mindset. You are embarking on more of a leisurely, meditative experience. You are strolling through nature in a forest and taking your time. You are engaging with all of your senses. You are noticing the sensations that appear and how you’re connecting to the natural world. This process of returning to nature can bring you to a heightened state of sensory awareness and a sense of tranquility. Within minutes of entering a green space, your body relaxes, blood pressure stabilizes, stress hormones decrease, muscle tension decreases, and health benefits kick in. Questions to Guide You Here’s what you might want to pay attention to as you walk through the forest:
Prescription for Forest Bathing Forest bathing is a powerful wellness tool. It’s a nature-based intervention so you don’t have to worry about chemical side effects. It can also be a complementary treatment to supplement standard treatment, especially for mental health afflictions. Forest bathing can also serve as a preventative measure for those at risk of psychological and other types of illnesses. Those in urban environments without much green space are especially encouraged to find green pocket parks. You can also seek out a forest bathing guide to help you across the U.S. Some doctors, frustrated with patients who aren’t getting enough physical exercise, are becoming guides themselves and writing prescriptions for forest bathing. In a world in which we are on 24/7, the negative effects of living hectic lives have taken a toll on our health and happiness. Forest bathing offers a healing way to get back to nature and ourselves. Research continues to show positive health results of this practice across all age groups—from children to elderly populations. |
Forest Bathing. It's Good For Your Health.
By Sarah Bird
Photographs by Tom McCarthy Jr.
April 2021 issue
Photographs by Tom McCarthy Jr.
April 2021 issue
“SO, FOREST BATHING?” my husband inquires dubiously on a sublime fall day as we drive south on Our Highway of Perpetual Construction, Interstate 35. We’re heading from Austin to New Braunfels, where I’m going to investigate this exact practice.
“Yes?” I counter. “Are you sure this isn’t going to be a repeat of that Jemez Mountains deal?” he asks. That “Jemez Mountains deal” was a cross-country ski trip we’d taken in New Mexico. Our destination was a “secret” hot spring where we’d envisioned taking a blissful, private soak. When we approached the rising mist at the end of a long, snowy trail, however, we spotted three burly German tourists, completely nude except for surprising amounts of body hair. Friendly types, they all stood to greet us. Hard pass on tubbing with the Teutons. El Hubbo’s confusion and skepticism are understandable. “Forest bathing” is an unfortunate translation of shinrin-yoku, the name coined in 1982 by the Japanese government when it began promoting immersion in nature to combat skyrocketing suicide rates. Dr. Qing Li, a member of Tokyo’s Nippon Medical School, later used science to back up the intuition that nature is good for humans with his 2018 international bestseller, Forest Bathing: How Trees Can Help You Find Health and Happiness. The results of the Japanese government’s experiment were so promising that scientists around the globe put the simple practice of spending mindful time outdoors to the test. In the four decades since, a whopping 290 million participants from 20 different countries were tracked in hundreds of studies. Scientists measured everything from how much more stress levels dropped when strolling in nature instead of along a city street, to how much faster sick patients recovered when they had a view of trees rather than a hospital wall. The research confirmed what we know intuitively: Spending more time outside is good for our bodies and minds. Unhurried strolls in forests, parks, and leafy neighborhoods—even along golf courses—can be effective for helping to lower heart rate, blood pressure, and anxiety. HELLO ANXIETY, MY OLD FRIEND. Like most sentient Americans, the cascade of jarring events loosed upon us in recent years has left me as jangled as any Japanese commuter being stuffed onto a Tokyo subway. Could forest bathing, I wonder, be a way to help me ditch my blood pressure pills and achieve serenity? Since I spent a fair chunk of my childhood as an Air Force kid on bases in Japan, I understand how immersion in their serene pine forests and artfully manicured gardens could be a Zen experience. Texas on the other hand? A state where, historically, nature has been a hostile place always trying to attack us with a cactus spine, a rattler fang, or scorching heat? Would this practice even work in Texas? “Forest bathing most certainly does work in Texas,” John Warner, a recently retired Urban District Forester with Texas A&M Forest Service, assures |
me with infectious enthusiasm. The 32-year veteran of the state agency became an ardent advocate of forest bathing because it connects perfectly with his mission to teach citizens that public lands are essential. For him, the practice is “a no-brainer.”
“People won’t protect or advocate for something unless they have an attachment to it,” Warner says. “We have 29 million people in Texas; we want to get every one of those lives touched by nature. We want to get them attached to forests. That’s the reason I got involved.” In 2019, Warner set up the state’s first forest bathing program at W.G. Jones State Park in Conroe with the help of volunteer guides. I asked if I could sign up. But sadly, those large, public sessions have been temporarily discontinued for exactly the reason my anxiety levels have spiked and I need this treatment more than ever. Read: the pandemic. Luckily, Warner suggests another option: Kortnee Whitehawk, one of only a couple Certified Forest Therapy Guides in the state accredited by the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy. A few days later, my husband and I are on our way to Landa Park in New Braunfels to meet with Whitehawk. When we reach the little Central Texas town, a van from a kayak rental business pulls in front of us. A sign on the back of the van orders us to “Let the RADventure Begin!!!” Why yes, I believe I will. I start relaxing the instant we pass beneath Landa Park’s towering oaks. I am suffused by happy memories of family picnics in the shade of these ancient trees. A couple more recent memories return when I spot Wursthalle, where I might have over-celebrated a few Wurstfests. We park and I pull out the blood pressure monitor I’d brought along to chart the wondrous effects forest bathing is sure to have on my system. I pump it up and note my typical, borderline terrifying reading. Since he’s not coming along, I use El Hubbo as my personal control group. He’s engrossed in a conference call, but he grudgingly sticks out his arm. As usual, he has the blood pressure of a lizard sunning on a rock. Not that it’s a competition. |
I MEET MY GUIDE AT THE SOURCE OF COMAL SPRINGS, where, the Edwards Aquifer pumps its crystalline waters into Texas’ largest springs. What more can I tell you about the radiantly exuberant Whitehawk, except that she is the rare middle-aged women who can pull off a newsboy cap and pigtails? Not to mention her great-great-great-grandmother was a medicine woman with the Abenaki tribe in Vermont and the last name she uses professionally was inspired by her spirit animal. If anyone can turn me into a forest bathing aficionado, it is this wood nymph.
“The whole idea of forest bathing is a series of invitations to get you out of the cerebral brain,” Whitehawk explains as we enter Panther Canyon Nature Trail, a popular 1.7-mile hushed green corridor of oak, juniper, and cedar elms. She invites me to scratch a rock and smell, to listen for the hoot of an owl, to imagine the dry bed of Panther Creek flowing with rushing water, to notice the countless shades of green. A couple wearing flip-flops zips past, and I realize my Rocky Mountain-battered hiking boots are overkill on this tranquil amble. Forest bathing doesn’t require Gore-Tex and cardiovascular endurance. All you need is an open mind. For a quarter of a mile, we stroke bark and sniff lichen, and imagine a life story for one of Whitehawk’s favorite trees, a live oak she calls Flying Tree. Then we stop, and she invites me to find a “sit-spot” off the trail and simply “observe and see what comes up.” Tucked away behind a boulder, I face the majestic limestone canyon wall and watch tree shadows play across its face. A ginormous black beetle trundles under the python crawl of fallen branches. Jays squabble. I lie down and surrender entirely as I watch a soft breeze rustle the high branches that paint swaying patterns across the bluer-than-blue sky. In all my communing with nature, some scratchy oak leaves have managed to work their way into my underwear, but I don’t care. I can feel my blood pressure plummeting. Without much effort, I find that I am doing what 70% of us fail to do while meditating: I am present in the moment. My hamster wheel of a brain briefly disengages, and I sigh with contentment as the stress drains away. This, I reflect, is almost as relaxing as sitting in my backyard. That would be my exceptionally bucolic backyard, where I can see just as many trees and a lot more wildlife, and where fewer oak leaves will work their way into my underwear. In that instant, the hamster wheel starts squeaking again and I wonder if forest bathing might not be just a leafier version of the hippies’ “Be Here Now” or Oprah’s infatuation with “The Power of Now.” How, I ask myself, is this really any different from any stroll in the woods? I am close to deciding that it’s not when a gaggle of utterly silent preteens passes on the trail behind me. With eyes freshened by my forest bath, I notice what has become so normal that none of us even sees it anymore. They are—yes, all of them—on their phones. Not a single one of the five is interacting with the trees. Or, even, each other. I’m struck by a vivid memory of the first time I encountered screen bewitchment in the young. This was 20 years ago. Our son, Gabriel, was 10, and we’d arranged for a couple of his pals to come home from school with us. I sprang what I thought would be a surprise treat and took the trio to one of Gabriel’s favorite spots: Mayfield Park, a warren of lakeside trails in Austin. As soon as I stopped the car in the Mayfield parking lot, Gabriel bounded out. His bewildered buddies, however, didn’t budge. They simply gazed out the car window while Gabriel disappeared down a trail, then pulled out their Game Boys and were consumed. |
We were still a couple of decades away from 2019, when ABC News told us teens spent an average of nine hours and 49 minutes on their phones a day, but even then, the boys’ inertia was alarming. Clearly, this was a teachable moment.
“Out,” I ordered. “Now.” After finally dislodging them, the two boys hovered around the car like a pair of rehabilitated orangutans yearning to return to the safety of the cage, but eventually they wandered off. This memory triggered my first forest bathing epiphany: The ones who need to return to the wild are today’s digitally distracted youth. I thought urgently about the increasing number of kids growing up in neighborhoods paved and perhaps perilous rather than lovely and leafy—who don’t have a pleasant, safe park to drive to, or a parent available to do the driving. This led to my second epiphany: Those who need forest bathing most aren’t fortunate people like me. People who grew up roaming woody neighborhoods from the second we finished our cornflakes until we chased the mosquito spray trucks home at dusk. People who own far too much fleece and have cross-country ski memories. People with parents who shoo them into nearby parks. I am now enthusiastic about the importance of forest bathing for greenery-starved youths as I slug down some of the dandelion tea Whitehawk has thoughtfully brewed. I thank her effusively for an experience that enlightened me in a completely unexpected way, and head home. I don’t even bother taking my blood pressure. I have other questions about forest bathing, and they no longer concern me and my own tiny, personal anxiety hive. |
"I LITERALLY WRITE PRESCRIPTIONS FOR MY PATIENTS TO GO OUTSIDE."
I’m speaking with Dr. Daniel Porter, director of the Lone Star Family Health Center in Conroe, about why he became one of the state’s most ardent advocates of forest bathing. “I have seen a 90-pound 3-year-old who almost couldn’t walk, and it broke my heart,” Porter says. “But when I have conversations with parents about what they do with their kids, I see the anxiety. They know their children should be getting out, but both parents are working. And maybe they live in a dangerous neighborhood. So, the kids come home, get locked in, and jump on their phones or on TV. “I deal with an underserved population,” he adds. “Some of them stress over immigration, economics, opiate issues, methamphetamines, and the perennial No. 1 issue: drinking. And this is all pre-COVID. Before schools had to close. Screen use now is insane.” Porter estimates 30%-40% of what primary caregivers struggle with are mental health problems. But many caregivers simply don’t have time for in-depth therapy. Sometimes, prescribing medication is the best doctors can do. Mental health counseling is another option, but many patients are reluctant to go or have financial barriers to care. “It got to me that I didn’t have anything else to offer,”Porter says. “And then John Warner came along.” Warner agrees unequivocally when I share both of Porter’s comments and my forest bathing revelation. “Yes, absolutely, we need to talk about social justice.” How, though, does that commitment jibe with Warner’s role at the state agency? “I’m the land manager,” Warner says. “I’m inviting everyone to get out there and enjoy their public lands. But there is a huge difference between the groups that might use that land. One group just wants to get a little exercise while another group is worrying about ‘How am I going to pay the rent? Where is my next meal coming from?’ One group understands that getting out will make them feel better. Another group doesn’t have time to feel good. Dr. Porter helps me connect with that group.” Everything came together in 2008 when Warner and Porter met Tamberly Conway, the first U.S. Forest Service employee to receive financial support from the agency to become a Certified Forest Therapy Guide. “Reaching out to diverse groups is my personal passion,” says Conway, who worked for years as a Partnerships, Diversity, and Inclusion Specialist, and Conservation Education Specialist with the U.S. Forest Service in Washington, D.C. Now based in Lubbock, she is spreading the gospel of outdoor inclusion. In partnership with conservation and health-related organizations, Conway has supported the development of programs for veterans, many of whom have experienced trauma; people suffering from depression and chronic diseases; and bilingual groups like Corazón Latino, a national nonprofit focusing on social and environmental projects. In 2008, Warner was searching for programs to reach Latino audiences and invited Conway to meet with him and Porter. Conway’s multicultural approach helped them understand that nature does not automatically mean happy frolics to everyone. For some, “outside” has negative connotations. Porter recalls how that pivotal meeting with Conway opened new doors for him. “She helped us get a grant to build a small nature area where kids 2 to 8 can explore and parents can relax. It’s right outside the [clinic],” he adds proudly. “That’s when I started getting into the idea of prescribing nature: ‘Two times a week, spend an hour outside.’” |
Until COVID shut it down, many of those prescriptions were for the program at W.G. Jones State Park. Alexus Sham, an immigration attorney in The Woodlands with 4- and 5-year-old adopted daughters who struggle with weight issues and other challenges, says his kids have benefited from this program. “It gives them a sense of wonder,” Sham says. “They get so excited seeing deer and collecting pine cones. They love the bridges. It helps them not only physically but mentally as well. They’re always asking, ‘When are we going on an adventure?’”
Even with the program now shut down, Porter remains undaunted. “It really feels like we’re on the cusp of something big,” he concludes. “As a scientist, you want the data, not just the feel-good stuff. And there is a lot of nice research showing that exposure to nature can help a patient manage ADHD, asthma, hypertension, and mental health issues. It’s not expensive. There are no side effects. It’s a game-changer.” At this point, I am sold on everything about forest bathing except the unfortunate name. A title that conjures up images of hot-tubbing Teutons and wood nymphs is too goofy for a practice with the potential to change lives and reaffirm every Texan’s essential right to access verdant spaces. Whatever the name, I was certain the kayak rental van was right, and forest bathing is indeed one RADventure all Texans should embark on. Self-Care Anywhere
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Conserving Land; Preserving Human Health

conserving_land_preserving_human_health_-_frumkin_and_louv_.pdf |
By Howard Frumkin, M.D., and Richard Louv
Evidence suggests that children and adults benefit so much from contact with nature that land conservation can now be viewed as a
public health strategy
public health strategy
Public health professionals know that protecting watersheds is one of the best ways to assure clean, safe drinking water—so protecting the sources of clean water protects public health. Clean air is also part of a healthy, wholesome environment. Air pollutants contribute to cardiovascular disease, respiratory disease and allergies. Therefore, protecting air quality is protecting public health.
What about land? Do people benefit from parks and green spaces? When we protect land, do we protect public health? Intuition, experience and theory suggest the answer is yes.
What about land? Do people benefit from parks and green spaces? When we protect land, do we protect public health? Intuition, experience and theory suggest the answer is yes.
The Turfmutt Foundation
The TurfMutt Foundation encourages outdoor learning experiences, stewardship of our green spaces, and care for all living landscapes for the benefit of all. By teaching about the outdoors and educating citizens about sustainability, we are helping sustain a greener, healthier quality of life for this and future generations. We promote urban habitat and ways everyone may save the world one yard at a time. TurfMutt is the symbol and spokesdog of this mission.
Texas Children in Nature — San Antonio
Texas Children in Nature — San Antonio is a network of organizations dedicated to connecting children and families with nature to be Healthier, Happier and Smarter. TCiN- SA focuses on the region in and around the San Antonio metro area.
We collaborate to raise awareness about why it is important that children and families have a daily connection with nature. Children today are spending on average 7-11 hours per day indoors, sedentary with media and only minutes per day playing in nature. Not surprisingly we are seeing a rise in childhood obesity, depression, diabetes, near sightedness and a number of other health issues. |
Nature Rocks — San AntonioResearch also shows that children who are disconnected from nature do not understand where their food comes from, water cycles, weather, or develop a basic care about the world around them.The good news is this is a solvable problem. TCiN-SA works through community partnerships to create opportunities to nature-based learning and access to nature.
NatureRocksSanAntonio.org is one of the tools the collaboration supports to share all the local green spaces, parks, zoos, nature centers, and activities with families. |