My shinrin yoku experiment: a week with the trees in sun, snow, day, and night
Does your life kinda stink? Maybe you need a bath—a tree bath, that is. Shinrin yoku is the practice of forest bathing, or being in the therapeutic presence of trees. To breathe near them, observe nature, use your senses, and be mindful. The shinrin yoku movement began in Japan in the 80s and has become an accepted medical treatment there and in other parts of the world. There are evidence-backed claims of health benefits, such as improved mood, blood pressure, and sleep.
The principles of shinrin yoku vary depending on your source, but are pretty simple:
- Immerse yourself in nature, wherever you can find it, preferably in the company of trees.
- Focus on it without artificial distraction
- Let go of agendas, time, and expectations
- Use your senses to observe what’s around you
I have decided to try it and see how it feels. The forest is always a rejuvenating place for me. Living in the Pacific Northwest has given me the opportunity to be near the best trees in the world and incredible areas of natural beauty. Many of my sweetest memories are intertwined with my experiences outdoors.
I respect the majesty of trees and believe they give us so much more than cocktail toothpicks, wooden marionettes, and toilet paper. They are like the sentinels of nature, standing tall, guarding and bearing witness.
Trees aren’t as simple as they seem: they communicate with each other in mysterious ways, via electricity, chemicals in the air, and fungi underground. They have networks and depend on each other for survival. We are guests when we visit them, but yet we need them too, as they are a part of our story, and us now a part of theirs.
The science of our own place in nature is complicated. We typically think of ourselves as special and separate from the rest of the ecosystem. But the interdependence we have with other living things, with the world outside, is devastatingly underrated. The way we’ve upset that balance has wronged ourselves and our earth. I am intrigued by how humans are meant to rely on other living things to optimally survive, and how we can go about restoring some of that lost balance. Being in nature, where humans have always lived until recently, is probably what’s missing from our plastic-y, artificially lit, indoor lives.
Shinrin yoku sounds like a good way to connect with myself, the trees, the rest of the forest, and to see what it does for my own balance, mood and sleep. For a week I practiced shinrin yoku, near home and away, in the sun and in the snow, and during both day and night. Here is an account of my experience.
Away in the snow, with shinrin yoku day and night
Friday, 7:45 pm: People…people who need people. And glamping in the trees.
I planned a camping trip in the foothills of the Coast Range in western Oregon, amidst the trees of a dense Douglas fir forest. I’ve made it to my camping spot and the ground is covered in a slush of snow that’s been rained upon. We planned this spring break trip months ago, but didn’t expect it to be so cold. Or wet. Snow this late in the year isn’t typical.
We’ve decided to make the best of it and enjoy our soggy outing. We set up canopies outside the trailer, covered our fire wood, and went into the toasty interior of our apartment on wheels to hang out (only after the kids became thoroughly saturated). I guess it’s more like glamping than roughing it if your accommodations are nicer than your actual house.
Now we’re watching The Lorax on our camping flat screen, and this movie happens to fit the theme of my trip: trees. Instead of speaking FOR the trees, I want the trees to speak TO me. I’ve decided I’m going into the woods to formally try shinrin yoku in the morning.
Because we are the kind of family that sometimes watches a little tv while enjoying nature (and parks a mobile house on the side of our home in the name of camping), we probably desperately need time in the trees. To unplug, decompress, be silent, and breathe in the high-quality forest air.
Saturday, 9:35 am: Forest sense
I woke up with a bad headache—possibly due to the modern comforts of forced air heat, blasting into my sinuses as I slept. Snow fell throughout the night while my furnace roared, leaving some of the trails impassable. After an egg and pancake breakfast I headed out, with my friend D and her dog, to be with some trees. Shinrin yoku encourages use of your senses. I tried to focus and pay attention.
👀Sight: Dark evergreen boughs capped with beautiful snow. The sapling babies of spring, chilled and new at our feet, looking lost and small. Brightness amplified with white all around.
👂🏽Sound: Quiet water tricking everywhere and nowhere as the snow melts and stealthily joins its friends downhill. The crack of branches, giving with a heavy burden. Flakes fall like a million whispers.
🤚Touch: Cold becomes a part of you as you invite it in, breathing deeply. The snow crunches in a satisfying way with each step—you can feel the sureness of your footing. Trees shelter and give off a slight warmth as you pass closely.
👃🏻Smell: The familiar sweetness of forest is here today, but smoother in the chill than usual, as it is cut with the frosty clean scent of pure snow. A bank of trees that has been recently logged smells strongly of fir, which reminds me of good things from my past all at once—Christmas trees, shop class, songs by firelight, and our old wood stove.
I was hoping the trees would cure my headache. It was still there, but I was definitely more calm and a little happier. Upon returning to camp I got a hankering for a long satisfying nap, which I took, snuggled with my Baby Son.
Saturday, 10:45 pm: Who’s on night watch?
The first tree bath of the day was great, but I just had to try it in the dark. Another friend was game this time. After a few carne asada tacos, a bottle of local ale, and good campfire conversations, again I left, with my 15-month old strapped to my chest. We set out just as the twilight sky was lavender and warned us of darkness.
The forest took on a different feel in the dark. The trees were done standing watch for us, and told us we were on our own. If the day was our time, this was theirs. Somehow things seemed more alive as the sun set.
Greenery was bright in our headlamps. Branches popped out of nowhere. The trail seemed smaller and the trees seemed bigger. I still felt welcome as a guest, to this time bear witness for the trees. They thanked us for our visit and after an hour or so we felt the need to get back to our people and our own home base.
The daylight trip made me want to sleep, but the nighttime one energized me. I returned to the company of family and friends, to sit around the fire some more (and s’more) staying up late, having fun.
The pros
- Love, love, love being in the forest. Paying close attention to your senses makes the experience more intense, and gives you a better respect and understanding for the trees and the rest of the living things around you. Both day and night trips give the forest a magical ambiance when you let your invasive thoughts fade away.
- The air is fantastic. It smells great, it feels great, and I wonder what exactly those beneficial compounds that trees emit do. Breathing in the forest is the best part.
- Shinrin yoku is rejuvenating and peaceful. The opportunity to try this in the deep, snowy woods was incredible.
- Being with the trees is a privilege, and one I don’t want to take for granted. Having access to the wonder of the forests is special and I am grateful.
The cons
- Recommendations are to wander aimlessly at a leisurely pace with shinrin yoku, but in a remote area I had a hard time with both. I get lost very quickly, and I have to eventually come home safely. I ended up walking at a good pace at times, with purpose. So, yeah, it was like a hike.
- Want to take someone along so you’re not alone in the woods? It is very difficult not to talk, especially if you are with friends that you need to catch up with. I kept wanting to break silence, especially to make noise to warn cougars away from my baby during the dark walk.
- It’s pretty hard to focus in a dark, unfamiliar place, due to instincts to avoid danger. This makes it hard to fully relax during the night.
Shinrin yoku in the Sunday sun, with the trees outside my door
Sunday, 2:45 pm: In my own backyard
We arrived home from camping today to find it mostly sunny and warm. The plan was to unpack and relax for the rest of the day. But then my yard got all jacked up from trying to park and re-park the heavy trailer on soggy ground.
I had to back fill all these ruts by hand with my hoe.
Then my Baby Son got into the barbecue grease when I wasn’t looking. Hope he doesn’t get diarrhea. He smeared this everywhere.
Needless to say I was exhausted and stressed after all this, so I decided to do shinrin yoku in my own yard in an attempt to take it down a notch.
I have 10 trees and shrubs on my property. I wandered and focused on their individuality, trying to be present, getting a sense for each on their own. This was calming and it was good to check in on my plants, seeing how spring was changing them so far.
Pros:
- The trees in your yard, street, or neighborhood are completely available, with quick access.
- Seeing something as new that you are used to looking at is rad.
- Peering at the small details of any plant is fascinating, and something we don’t do enough of—I can’t usually see my yard for the trees.
Cons
- It’s hard not to want to prune or start yard projects when looking at your own plants. This is not a calming feeling, so you have to push past it.
- Depending your nearest outdoor space, your choices may be limited.
Trees in the city park, family style
Tuesday, 5:05 pm: “I don’t wanna take a tree bath!”
My kids are off school for the week, and it is easy to get lazy and crazy inside the house. We had spent the good part of the day curled up in my bed binge-watching Gortimer Gibbons, making bead necklaces, and doing my taxes. Suddenly I felt the shinrin yoku itch and dragged them to a city park, with the bargain of taking them to the swings after some tree time. They were like, “I don’t wanna take a tree bath!” Well, tough turds.
We ambled down the paths and touched rocks, listened for bullfrogs, and found stripes of colorful sap and lichen on bark. Some of the paths were flooded, but we discovered a new one we hadn’t been on before as we wandered, seeing trees that were usually submerged underwater, looking dead and spooky.
The kids liked their tree bath, whether they want to admit it or not.
Pros:
- Easy to do, safe to actually wander around aimlessly in a controlled space.
- Family-friendly. Parks are usually made with accessibility in mind. There are paved paths for strollers, wheelchairs, and bikes, and groomed areas to sit and observe nature.
Cons:
- City parks can have all kinds of distractions, like traffic noise, homeless camps, and views/smells of the sewage treatment plant between the trunks.
- Not as peaceful as remote forests. There are other people you have to share the space with.
A pause for nature on a busy day
Thursday 8:15 pm: She works hard for the shinrin yoku
My day was filled with meetings, phone calls, and pissing on small dramatic workplace fires. I only got a 15 minute lunch and the day went by like lightning. Before I knew it I had been there for almost 14 hours in a windowless space. I needed to transition to a more peaceful state, and seek the normalcy of nature.
I found an awesome tree in bloom on my way to the parking garage. The goal: to get rid of stress and naggy thoughts so I could go home and be fully present with my family. It is already becoming easier to focus after a week with shinrin yoku. I could feel myself relax quickly as I looked at the glow of the tree in the fading light, smelled the blossoms, and breathed deeply. With an investment of only a few minutes I felt a lot better.
The pros:
- Doing a workplace shinrin yoku quickie can help you decompress before, during, or after work. Finding a spot to enjoy a little slice of nature can help normalize your stressful day.
- Being mindful during a busy time is easier with external cues in the beauty of nature.
The cons:
- If you are stuck inside like I am for your work day, you may have to venture outside on your break or bring plants inside to practice this.
- Colleagues and campus security may be concerned by your loitering, deep tree sniffing, and the intensity of your gaze. Be prepared to make urine for “random” drug testing. (Hope you haven’t used it all up pissing on fires.)
Shinrin yoku experiment: the findings
Mood
Shinrin yoku is amazing for my mood, even in the short term. This mindfulness technique is spot on. It is a good way for beginners to find focus, since trees are usually easy to find and sensory input is straightforward. After each session I found myself returning to feelings of calm by remembering what I practiced.
When driving, I find myself glancing at the trees as I speed by, and for a second I feel that blip of peace. That’s what I’m looking for: a new habit of calm, carrying the feelings I get from mindfulness throughout my day.
We are drawn to nature because we are a part of it. Letting ourselves have the space and time to be present with the world is something we were born to do. Stop fighting it already.
Health
My camping tree bath did nothing for my headache, but I can see how this calming practice could be good for mitigating inflammation. I know my breathing and heart rate did slow with calmness.
The breathing aspect of shinrin yoku itself is key to bringing your body to the present. If you are able to try this in the deep forest or an untouched natural area you will be rewarded with the sweetest, cleanest, loveliest air. If you do nothing else in the woods, you must appreciate this in a world with fewer places to experience the air we were made to breathe.
Exercise, no matter how mild, is good for you—and you may get a dose, depending on your excursion. The focus of shinrin yoku is not to work out, but it can fit into an active, nature-loving lifestyle.
Sleep
Night was energizing, but day shinrin yoku made me either nap or have a slightly better time falling asleep. Mindfulness is known to be good for sleep, but I didn’t have enough of a trajectory to appreciate the full effects. Maybe daytime tree bathing is better for sleep than night due to sunlight exposure, and nighttime alertness (with an instinct to avoid danger in an unfamiliar place) can amp people up. Who knows, maybe the trees give off different chemicals during the night hours that can affect us? I need to try sitting still in the dark with a tree in a safe place sometime.
Long term practice
Sniffing trees and having an agenda when out in nature can seem a little hokey and “out there”, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Simply being mindful and appreciative of our natural world is what shinrin yoku is about. Immersing the mind, body, and spirit in the world around us is more normal than other common things people do, like intently choosing selfie filters on a smartphone, or watching other people experience nature through a TV set.
I liked trying shinrin yoku. The principles and techniques will probably stay with me as I seek more experiences in the peace of the outdoors. Forest bathing doesn’t have to be formal or grand, and I think focusing on nature is something anyone can do, no matter the scale. From a flower in a vase to a dense forest, find it and feel calm.
The benefits of shinrin yoku are rooted in stress relief and leafing your worries behind (pun and pun intended). If you bark up the right tree, you might find something worth keeping in your tool kit for living, so give tree bathing a try. Or at least look for a long, hard minute at your houseplants.
For further reading
Forest Bathing and the Larger Implications of Accessible Nature