Forest bathing: a gentle way to slow down in nature
- Kirsty Curnow

- Jan 23
- 3 min read

Forest bathing doesn’t involve fitness or previous experience — it’s simply about slowing down and noticing the trees around you.
There’s a term you may have heard of called forest bathing. It sounds a bit fancy, doesn’t it? Perhaps a little ‘woo woo’ if you’re someone who isn’t used to slow, quiet nature stuff. When I first heard it, I had visions of people trekking deep into the wilderness—or, even more startling, stripping off for a dip in a river or creek.
But the reality is much more grounded than that. In fact, forest bathing is one of the most accessible ways to spend time in nature, especially if you don’t consider yourself the “outdoorsy” type.
Forest bathing: it’s not about water
Despite the name, forest bathing isn’t about swimming or getting wet. While it can take place near lakes, streams or waterfalls, all you really need is to slow down and notice the forest around you. You don’t need to pack a towel, track your fitness or have any previous experience.
Forest bathing — or shinrin-yoku, as it originated in Japan — is simply the practice of being amongst the trees and soaking in the atmosphere through your senses. It’s about “bathing” your nervous system in the sights and sounds of the bush. It’s a slow, quiet walk where the destination doesn’t matter at all.
Finding the rhythm of the Aussie bush
In the Aussie bush, forest bathing doesn’t look like dense, green forests or dramatic scenery. It’s often open, dry and familiar. That’s part of what makes it easy to settle into.
When I head out for a slow walk or a quiet sit, I’m not searching for a lookout or a photo. I’m paying attention to what’s nearby and easy to miss when you’re rushing.
Notice the small details around you:
The smell of eucalyptus when you walk over fallen leaves
The feel of bark under your hand — rough in places, smooth in others
Light shifting through the trees and changing the ground beneath your feet
Bird calls, or the sound of something moving through the leaf litter.
Forest bathing is about noticing what’s already there, without needing it to be impressive or new. You stay close, move slowly, and let your senses do the work.

Permission to be still
For many of us, especially as we move through life over 40 or 50, there’s a quiet pressure that if we aren’t doing something — being productive, ticking boxes — then it doesn’t count. We feel we should be walking briskly or hitting a step goal. But the bush doesn’t care about your step count.
If you’ve ever been curious about joining others for this kind of experience, I’ve put together a day out called Stride after Stillness. We spend the first part of our morning in the Royal National Park simply being still — practising that forest bathing approach of noticing the small, local details. Once we’ve let the nervous system settle, we then move into a gentle hike. It’s a lovely way to transition from inner quiet into a steady, chat-friendly rhythm with a small group of women.
There is no right way to do forest bathing. You don’t need to be fit, and you don’t need to feel confident in the middle of nowhere. You just need to give yourself permission to slow down to a crawl.
Try it yourself
Next time you’re near a patch of scrub or a local park, try leaving your phone in your pocket. Don’t worry about how far you go. Just see if you can:
Notice three different sounds
Feel the air on your skin
Observe what’s moving around you
You might be surprised at how much lighter you feel when you aren’t trying to get anywhere at all.
