Forest medicine

Is it possible that being in the woods makes life seem easier?

I have been perusing the research on how simply being in the forest impacts human health and it is…pretty stunning. Most of the studies come from Japan, where the practice of forest bathing, or intentionally spending time in the forest to reap restorative health benefits, was popularized in the 1980’s. A still-small group of researchers is promoting the young field of Forest Medicine, an effort to codify proven clinical outcomes achieved by spending time in forests and develop clinical guidelines for, essentially, prescribing nature.

There are compelling results from the studies of forest bathing, and here is a sample. Blood and urine tests from research participants has showed that a two night stay in the woods markedly increased immune system function, measured by the number of natural killer cells and other biomarkers. Remarkably, the measurable increases lasted for thirty days after the forest exposure. There is also evidence that time in the forest leads to an increase in anti-cancer proteins. A study in 35 forests across Japan showed that a walk in the woods decreased concentrations of cortisol, lowered pulse rate, lowered blood pressure, increased parasympathetic nerve activity (the rest and digest response), and lowered sympathetic nerve activity (the fight or flight response). Similar walks in city environments did not produce these effects. Further studies have shown that in addition to these measurable physiological effects, time in the forest measurable reduces anxiety, depression, anger, fatigue and confusion as measured by standard mood scoring methodologies.

Even though the body of research is still small, there is significant redundancy between studies, and as a layperson reading it I find myself very compelled. I recall spending a week in the forest a couple years ago, living in a 10’ x 12’ one-room cabin with my then-nine-month-old son. My husband was not with me, and so I was parenting my young son mostly alone, with support here and there from friends. I remember one morning I put my son in a plastic high chair on the weather-worn deck and laid some chopped strawberries in front of him, and I saw him looking up at the crowns of the tall redwoods while he ate his breakfast. I looked up too. I found myself thinking suddenly how much easier this all seemed than when we were back in our city home. Even though I was alone with him, even though I didn’t have our usual daycare, even without all the baby care equipment contained in our house, even though we were living together in a small room instead of enjoying our usual separate bedrooms, it felt easier. This also seemed impossible. Caring for my baby mostly alone in the woods was objectively harder than doing so with a partner and daycare and all our belongings. Anyone would agree with that. Right?

It’s possible that what I was feeling was actually the lowered cortisol and the increased parasympathetic nervous system activity, and the increased vigor and decreased anxiety that have been measured by researchers. Reading the data makes me revisit, and take more seriously, my confounding feeling of ease under circumstances that I would expect to be intrinsically more stressful. Is it possible that being in the woods just makes life seem easier? That much easier? It sounds too romanticized to be true. I believe the data, I believe intuitively that the woods can heal, but I also don’t believe it, not fully. I’m suspicious, critical, wary of leaning too far into a paranoid stance about the evils of the modern world, skeptical of the simplistic view that all we need to do is return to the woods and everything will be solved.

But what if I just…believed it? What if I just fully believed that being in the woods truly makes my immune system stronger and reduces my cancer risk and decreases my anxiety and makes everything in life seem easier? What if I unequivocally believed that the forest does this for everyone else, too? What type of changes to my life and the world, which now feel impossible, would then feel urgent, existential, even inevitable?

And perhaps this is why it is so hard to bring this topic fully into the mainstream. To believe fully that everyone is healthier in the forest would then demand the types of changes that are difficult to conceive of, both at the individual level and at the level of our society. It would demand that we change how we spend our time, what our built environments are like, maybe where we live, maybe what we do for work. Or maybe, it’s just a call for redoubling emphasis on park access and day hikes. Or maybe all of the above. In any case, it’s something worth mulling over.

Coming soon

Essays on folding laundry, the infinite attempts of living, and my curved (or not?) cervix.

I’m curious…

• What are your general thoughts and feelings toward forest bathing? Do you believe the research?

• When was the last time you were in the forest? How did you feel?

**Quick head’s up: I am on maternity leave! During this time, my wonderful consultant/collaborator

Erin Shetron

will be doing some light moderation, so look for her name and please keep supporting each other in the comment sections. After nearly a year of working with Erin to define and shape this newsletter, I am confident that she will bring only the best Inner Workings vibes to the conversation.

While I’m offline, I’ll be sharing updated favorites from my archives as well as some new work that I’ve been saving up - like this one! I would love to hear what you think, I am hopeful they’ll be a salve in the slow winter months.

And special gratitude (again) to all you subscribers who are choosing to stick with me through this leave. You make this whole thing work and lay the foundation for what’s to come at Inner Workings and beyond. I am sending you so much love.

XO, Rachel