The woods of coastal Carolina are a dense forest landscape, intermittently spread between great expanses of vast shoreline and lush beaches. These forests are thick with towering pines and low-lying shrubbery. Past beach supply stores and ice cream shops, across long patches of hot sand warmed by relentless sun, the forest wall beckons with its cool canopy and abrupt shift in atmosphere, one that feels like entering a coveted hideaway in the midst of a tourist laden summer town. Coastal Carolina certainly doesn’t conjure images of lush forest and vivacious greenery, but it’s in these woods that I tried forest bathing and I felt that I’d been let in on a well-kept secret. 

The art of forest bathing originated in 1980s Japan as a meditative practice. Shinrin-yoku, or bathing in the forest atmosphere, is the simple act of existing within nature. There is no one way to do so, no right or wrong exercise or avenue to go about spending your time. It only requires your existence in a forested environment and your uninterrupted awareness. What do you hear, feel, see? What can you touch or smell? By merely being in a forest, you’re bathing in it, soaking it all in. 

How is it good for you?

Forest bathing started as a way to relieve stress, but through empirically evidenced research out of both the Eastern and Western hemispheres, has shown to influence human health in surprising ways. The benefits of forest bathing are not solely the result of mindfulness and a reprieved mental state, they’re in the air. Phytoncides are organic compounds released by trees and plants as a defense mechanism against bacteria, fungi, insects, and other potential threats. The compounds are emitted from the organism into the surrounding air, protecting plant life from often invisible predators. While crucial to our forests’ survival and proliferation, phytonicides not only protect the viability of trees and plant life, but also bolster the human body’s defense mechanisms too. Through exposure to natural phytoncides, say by strolling along a wooded trail or passing time under a dense tree canopy, our bodies absorb these naturally occurring compounds without us even knowing. 

Phytoncide exposure has been linked to induced cellular activity of the immune system, supporting the production and restoration of infection-fighting white blood cells. A 2010 study found higher levels of ant-cancer proteins within participants’ cells following a singular day trip to a forested park, and a 2019 study published results finding higher-levels of relaxation and improved mood amongst young women when walking through a forested environment compared to the urban control. Participants from this study reported feeling more relaxed and comfortable and less angry, hostile, and anxious after walking through a forest than the urban location. 

It’s clear that the current literature backs the claim that forest bathing is not only good for our mentalities but for our physiology too. After learning of the resounding benefits, I sought out to spend an intentional, unspecified amount of time in the forest. But the coastal Carolinian terrain seemed like an adverse environment for enjoying shade and anything green. It turns out, I just needed to open my eyes.

How it worked for me

Inland of its expansive beaches is an equally vast thicket of woods. The forest welcomed me, just like the ocean always had, with its outstretch of branches and promise of shade. I refused bug spray, scared it would create a barrier between my skin and the phytoncides (I found no research to support this concern), and laid my tattered beach towel amongst the sandy forest bottom. Ants crawled across my towel. I breathed long and hard. I closed my eyes, then opened them, then closed them again and tried to listen hard to the swoosh of the wind and the song of the sparrows. I spent the first couple of minutes like that, restless, mind wondering. Somewhere around the ten minute mark is when my thoughts eventually began to slow. My shoulders had dropped from my ears, my sit bones finding space in the sand. I tried a simple meditation practice, letting my thoughts float by behind my eyelids and watching as they passed me by. Then I opened my eyes to the same forest, the same green giants, but felt far more present than when I had started. 

Maybe it was because I was mentally primed to the calming effects of forest bathing, or maybe the phytoncides really did cross my skin barrier to interact with my cells, but I felt more at peace, like I’d slowed down time and in turn my thoughts. Regardless, I felt lighter, more at ease. 

In an era of rapid change and flooded nervous systems, taking a minute or two to do nothing but exist shouldn’t be a luxury, it should be an expectation. We as people need to slow down, to have empathy for ourselves, for others, and for our environment. Though this time for ourselves shouldn’t have to be scheduled or forced, forest bathing and its empirically evidenced benefits may be the practice we need to give ourselves permission to simply be in a time of urgency. To slow down, to notice, to breathe. To, quite literally, smell the roses. 

How do you reconnect with nature? Let us know in the comments!