Forest bathing for mind, body and spirit renewal

Slow forest walks, deep breaths, and the green hush of ancient trees are quietly reshaping how Australians approach wellbeing. Once a fringe wellness ritual borrowed from Japan, the practice of forest immersion has spread into weekend calendars from the Mornington Peninsula to the rainforests of Far North Queensland. People seeking calm, clarity, and a stronger connection to something larger than themselves are trading gym memberships for guided walks beneath towering eucalyptus and dripping tree ferns. The movement is more than a passing trend; it is a return to an intuitive human practice that modern life often pushes aside.

In a country where one in five adults reports high daily stress levels, and where nature reserves are within driving distance of most capital cities, the conditions for this gentle therapy are already in place. Forest bathing, or shinrin-yoku in its original form, invites slow, sensory immersion rather than vigorous hiking. The benefits reach from measurable changes in blood pressure to a quieter inner voice, offering a holistic path to health that aligns with ancient Indigenous Australian wisdom about caring for Country.

The roots of a timeless practice

The term forest bathing was popularised in Japan during the 1980s by the Forest Agency of the Japanese government, when physicians began prescribing time in wooded areas to counteract the burnout of city life. Researchers at Chiba University measured the physiological effects of slow walks in cypress and cedar groves, documenting lower cortisol, slower heart rates, and improved immune markers in participants. The practice draws on the long East Asian tradition of honouring mountains, rivers, and forests as living, breathing presences.

For Australians, the practice resonates with tens of thousands of years of Aboriginal connection to Country. Songlines, Dreaming stories, and traditional ecological knowledge all describe Country as a teacher, healer, and relative. Many Aboriginal-led tour operators now weave forest bathing with cultural storytelling, particularly in places like the Royal National Park south of Sydney and the Daintree lowlands. The convergence of these traditions suggests that slow, attentive immersion in green spaces has always been a form of medicine, regardless of the language used to describe it.

The chemistry of calm

Researchers have identified several biological mechanisms that explain why a quiet walk in the bush feels so restorative. Trees release organic compounds called phytoncides, particularly terpenes, which have been shown to increase the activity of natural killer cells in the human immune system. A landmark 2010 study published in Environmental Health and Preventive Medicine found that participants who spent three days in a forested area maintained elevated natural killer cell activity for up to thirty days afterwards.

In Australia, similar work is emerging from universities in Melbourne and Brisbane, where ecologists have begun cataloguing the airborne chemistry of native eucalypts, paperbarks, and rainforest species. The essential oils released by a mountain ash or a lemon myrtle carry antimicrobial and mood-lifting properties. When inhaled during a slow walk, they appear to nudge the nervous system out of fight-or-flight mode and into a state of relaxed alertness, lowering resting heart rate and improving sleep quality in the days that follow. Combined with the soft absence of digital distraction, the chemical cocktail becomes a powerful, free intervention for stress and anxiety.

Quieting the inner noise

Modern research into attention restoration theory suggests that natural environments replenish the brain's capacity for focused thought. Unlike urban settings, which demand constant directed attention to navigate traffic, crowds, and screens, forests offer what psychologists call soft fascination, the gentle stimulation of dappled light, bird song, and rustling leaves. This shift allows the prefrontal cortex, the brain's command centre, to recover from decision fatigue.

Australians juggling long commutes along the M1 corridor between the Gold Coast and Brisbane, or navigating the hustle of Parramatta during a working week, often arrive at the bush already depleted. A two-hour immersion in a place like the Sherbrooke Forest in the Dandenong Ranges can soften that depletion into a more reflective, spacious mindset. Many people find that solutions to stubborn problems surface naturally when the mental chatter quiets, a phenomenon echoed in meditation traditions worldwide. The techniques taught through breathwork for anxiety relief work in a similar way, inviting the body and mind to settle together.

Movement, breath, and the physical body

Forest bathing is not strenuous exercise, yet it offers gentle cardiovascular and musculoskeletal benefits that suit almost any fitness level. Slow walking on uneven ground engages stabilising muscles in the ankles, hips, and core, while the rhythmic breathing encouraged by the practice supports lung capacity and oxygenation. For older Australians, or those recovering from illness, this low-impact form of movement can be safer and more sustainable than gym-based routines.

Australian guidelines for physical activity recommend at least 150 minutes of moderate activity per week, and a weekly forest immersion easily fulfils part of that target while delivering additional psychological rewards. Studies from Japan and South Korea have also noted reductions in blood pressure, improvements in heart rate variability, and better glucose regulation among regular forest bathers. The Australian Heart Foundation has begun acknowledging nature-based activity as a legitimate component of preventative heart health, particularly in regions where green space is accessible to suburban populations in places like Adelaide's Hills and Perth's Darling Range.

Spirit, story, and a sense of place

Beyond the measurable, forest bathing opens a door to something less tangible yet deeply nourishing. Many participants describe feeling held by the forest, a sense of being part of a community of living beings that includes mosses, fungi, birds, and ancient trees. This experience often carries a spiritual quality, sometimes described as awe, sometimes as communion, and sometimes as a profound humbling of the self.

In Australia, where spiritual traditions range from organised religion to eclectic contemporary practice, forest bathing offers a secular yet sacred doorway. Walking among the 300-million-year-old Antarctic beech groves of Lamington National Park, or beneath the Wollemi pines hidden in the Blue Mountains wilderness, can shift perspective on time and scale. Aboriginal guides often frame these places as kin and Country, an approach that deepens the experience and reconnects participants with ecological kinship. Whatever one's beliefs, the forest has a way of returning people to their senses, their breath, and a quieter reverence for life.

Australian forests to explore

Australia offers extraordinary diversity for those ready to try forest bathing. The Tarkine wilderness in north-west Tasmania contains the world's largest temperate rainforest, with myrtle beech and towering eucalyptus that filter the air into a green hush. In Victoria, the Great Otway National Park combines coastal rainforest with fern gullies that feel almost primordial, while the Yarra Ranges offer accessible trails just an hour from Melbourne's CBD. New South Wales provides the easy-to-reach beauty of the Illawarra escarpment, and Western Australia's Walpole-Nornalup Inlets feature enormous tingle trees that grow nowhere else.

Visitors planning forest immersion should be aware of local regulations designed to protect fragile ecosystems. Activities are governed by the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999 at the federal level, with state agencies such as NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service and Parks Victoria managing on-the-ground access. Staying on marked trails, observing campfire restrictions, and respecting cultural sites are essential practices for any forest visitor. Several retreat centres and Aboriginal-owned tours now offer structured forest bathing experiences across the country, and many conservation organisations host volunteer days that combine nature connection with hands-on habitat restoration.

Beginning your own practice

Starting a forest bathing routine does not require special equipment or training, only intention and patience. Choose a quiet patch of bush, ideally with mature trees and minimal noise, and arrive with the commitment to walk slowly. Leave the phone in the bag, take long breaths through the nose, and let the senses lead. Notice the textures of bark, the scent of soil after rain, the patterns of light through the canopy.

Pairing the practice with simple rituals deepens its impact. A short breathing sequence at the start of the walk helps settle the nervous system, while a few moments of silent gratitude at the end anchor the experience. Returning to the same patch of forest week after week builds a relationship with the place, and over time the body learns to relax the moment it steps beneath the trees. For those wanting guidance and community, listeners and viewers across the country can explore related conversations on spirituality, wellness, and personal growth at thesheilashow.com, where healers and teachers share practices that complement time spent in nature.

If you live in a suburban area without easy access to mature bush, start with whatever green space is available, even a neighbourhood park with established trees. The benefits of slow, mindful immersion scale with the size and age of the natural setting, yet something meaningful happens whenever a person chooses to pause, breathe, and listen.

Tomorrow morning, set aside two hours, drive to the nearest pocket of old-growth forest you can reach, and walk it as if the trees were waiting for you to arrive.