The term forest bathing or nature bathing has seeped into the language of modern wellbeing. It’s origins come from the Japanese practice of Shinrin-yoku, 森林浴, 森林 (shinrin, “forest”) + 浴 (yoku, “bath, bathing”), which was developed in the 1980’s as a preventive healthcare program to address urban overload and burnout in densely populated Japanese cities. Exposure to naturally occurring stimuli has been found to have a direct effect on the parasympathetic nervous system, boosting our immune systems. Spending as little as fifteen minutes immersed or exposed to a natural environment restores human physical and mental health by engaging our five senses. 

Disconnecting from stress is possible by being in natural environments that already create positive feelings. Our responses are influenced by our evolutionary history in adapting to life in nature, where forests have been a source of food and shelter.

We are a part of nature, which is why it can provide solace, comfort and familiarity that urban environments are unable to. 

Urban nature bathing may sound like a contradiction or an impossibility, as physically getting out into green areas or forests is not easy with more than half of the global population living in cities and by 2050 around two-thirds will be living in urban areas.

How can the majority of the population nature bathe while living in city spaces, arid landscapes or areas of environmental degradation? 

One way is to begin by examining our view of nature. What is understood as NATURE with capital letters is influenced by the lens through which we view the world that comes from our experiences and heritage. It is also influenced by what we have been told through social and digital media. These narratives most likely will not align with our current access to nature, as we may be physically removed from it. Additionally, our view of nature can be heavily influenced by the presence or absence of vegetation, which in turn informs what we consider a forest. 

Being in a location where green vegetation grows on every surface, including moss on the pavement, means seeking out greenery in unlikely places may not be essential. A plant growing along a roadside verge in an arid landscape, alternatively, is an important sign of life. Though researchers are adamant that the positive effects are not limited to our ideas of what nature is. There is no change if we nature bathe in winter when trees have no leaves or if there are no trees around us at all. An experience in Hong Kong City blurred the lines between actual and virtual nature by placing branches and leaves from a recent typhoon on a small patch of artificial grass where participants used headphones to create a natural soundscape. Virtual forest bathing using VR headsets shows the potential of creating immersive experiences that have the ability to alter our physiology, even when we are aware the forest is not real. Though this research shows and reminds us that the positive effects of interacting with real natural settings do not compare with tech-based augmented realities or AI-generated content. Dynamic bathing, when we physically move and interact within these environments (such as walking), leads to more significant positive effects than if we statically bathe through only exposure to an environment. Floral arrangements and potted plants are simple ways of bringing nature not only indoors but also bringing ourselves back into contact with it. Though artificial objects such as fake flowers or plants do not induce the same positive physiological effects as compared to living ones.

The limitations we put on finding nature, vegetation and forests in cityscapes can be altered by adjusting the scale of what we are seeking.

The likelihood of finding an area with a lush canopy of foliage in multiple shades of green may be low, to near impossible, yet finding a park with grass, an avenue with trees on one side, is incredibly high. Nature can be finding a wildflower growing through a crack in concrete pavement.

On a bitterly cold grey day in February with no public green spaces within walking distance, I choose to walk along the concreted banks of the river, crossing over it on bridges and finally deciding to take the ferry down it. Being on the water, in the water and with the water gives the understanding of the fluidity and flexibility of being carried by water. Without physically immersing myself in its grey depths, I have connected with this body of water in the city.

Being immersed in nature is a way of connecting with the world around us by putting us in our skin and in our bodies.

We are deeply distracted by doing; by slowing down and connecting with our natural surroundings, we are confronted with being. Consciously connecting with what is around us by engaging our five senses cultivates a mindfulness of small discoveries around us, of the multiple shades, fragrance in the air, forms and shapes, textures and flavours. Some cities have taken into account the need for some resemblance of wilderness for their urban residents, which makes accessing nature easier. In other cities, creative adaptations have seemingly made nature out of thin air, or slivers of it create hidden urban oases. Nature, in whatever form we interact with it, is good for our health.

“It’s amazing how therapeutic it can be when you find new ways to engage with the natural world.”

Words by Anna Borrie