Forest Bathing in Golden Gate Park: a Shinrin Yoku Experience

“I was a different person in the same place.”

One of San Francisco’s most beloved traits is its continuous celebration of eccentricity. Not only does it celebrate the eccentric, it seeks it out. Therefore, as any true San Franciscan would, I had no misgivings about my latest adventure: forest bathing in Golden Gate Park. This park is a nature-lover’s playground, and a must see for any visitor to San Francisco. I picked the Botanical Gardens as my enchanted forest for the afternoon to experiment for the first time with the Japanese art of forest bathing.

Faithful forest bathers regard the practice much in the same way as faithful yogis regard a disciplined routine. Immersing oneself amongst the green, massive trees means succumbing to nature’s healing powers. Shinrin-Yoku, the Japanese name for forest bathing, is an art and a science, not an anecdote. Healthy Japanese of all ages credit this practice for their well-being and for a variety of health benefits: reduced blood pressure, improved immune system, and longevity. It is definitely an exercise to be experienced with the senses.

I know I broke the “rules” of forest bathing by bringing my phone. I rationalized it like this: It gives me greater pleasure to be with something that creates art (camera on phone, notes on phone) than to experience a missed opportunity.  And so, I started at The Garden of Fragrance, taking in scents like Mediterranean rose and the crisp herbal fragrance of purple-gray lavender lining my path. I thought of Beirut. Passing rhododendrons, which are known for their medicinal respiratory benefits, I took a deep breath. I forgot my problems for the moment as I bathed in one tree’s shade and then allowed the next one to drench me with cascading sunlight. I forgot I was in a pandemic. I felt I was in paradise, bouncing from sign to sign, stooping down to get a look at the intricate colors on the flowers. 

If you are not well-versed in the names of plants, flowers, and trees (as I am not), then you will find such names as “Black Cloud,” “Autumn Glory,” and “Patty’s Purple” an absolute delight to stumble upon as you are passing these plants. I was incredibly amused.

Perhaps it’s intentional that these little snippets of humor popped up along the way, causing my eyes to continuously do a double take reading their names, so as to miss the grandeur that awaited. I finally looked up and my smile turned into astonishment. I whispered the word “whoa,” and in one instant I felt my journey had reached the peak of the forest bath. In front of me lay a scene of complete tranquility. If forest bathing results in a gradual improvement of the immune system, it happened to me all at once in that very moment. Blood pressure dropped, heart rate relaxed, serotonin released. The simple sign post read: “New Zealand” and I was magically there.

I frantically took pictures of the signs under what looked like giant palm trees. I had to know this greatness, but the 2% battery on my phone gave me no choice but to stop. So, defeated, I stopped. I stood there in my vulnerability and lack of knowledge at it all. I did the only thing I knew how to do at the time: stare in wonder. I realized that Shinrin-Yoku didn’t care what you knew. In fact, not knowing what this all was made it more of an untouchable miracle that I didn’t want to understand.

I don’t know how long I stood there, letting each moment fade away with the rustling of a leaf. I didn’t know how to leave; like falling in love and looking for excuses to stay. When there’s nothing more in life that you want except for what’s in front of you, isn’t that Shinrin Yoku?

As the gardens were closing, I had to circle back to the entrance. What a perfectly imperfect time to get lost! I ended up visiting every country in the world that day through their plants, about three more times. I thought of a recent call with a friend who ended our very deep conversation with: “no matter what happens, you’ll be happy either way.” My mind wandered back to reality and I kept thinking, it’s just a circle, you’ll end up right where you began. It’s just a circle. I was so wrong.

I found my way back to the entrance soon after that, but I didn’t end up right where I began. I was a different person in the same place. As I reached the front gate, I texted him, dying battery and all: “I think you’re right. I’ll end up happy either way,” and sent him the picture of my enchanted palm trees.