Is "Forest Bathing" the Cure to Burnout? Here’s My Honest Review

I want to preface this by saying, I hate mud. As a late-diagnosed AuDHD (an unofficial term used to describe someone with both autism and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) woman, walking on uneven, squelchy surfaces is one of my most feared forms of sensory overload, and the thought of the various animal secretions hiding under piles of leaves makes me shudder. Why, then, would I subject myself to two hours of "forest bathing," the very name of which suggests I will face at least two of these fears? The truth is, it was a last-ditch attempt to cure the burnout I’ve been battling for the last few years. Yes, years.

According to WTW’s Global Benefits Attitude Survey, 50% of neurodivergent employees reported feeling burnt out at work, compared to 38% of neurotypical employees. Mine began shortly after I started my first job in 2021 and has ebbed and flowed in debilitating waves ever since. Taking regular annual leave is a sensible idea, but it often ends up being filled with life admin, leaving little time for actual rest.

Everything from the discomfort of bright office lighting and loud sounds, to the exhaustion of masking (the act of hiding neurodivergent traits) and managing executive dysfunction (difficulties with planning, organizing, emotional, and impulse regulation), contributes to neurodivergent burnout — making the day-to-day impossible at times. After experiencing a particularly bad burnout last summer, I knew it was time to find a solution that I could add to my coping toolbox (one that lasted longer than a bubble bath or five-minute meditation).

I headed to the gorgeous Bishopstrow Hotel & Spa in Wiltshire for a 24-hour staycation with my mom (who has self-diagnosed ADHD), to decompress, unwind, and test the benefits of becoming one with nature. Bishopstrow offers more than just spa days and salon appointments. From yoga to sound baths, there’s a host of well-being experiences available, and forest bathing is the latest addition to its extensive agenda. So, after a Saturday of spa indulgence and a delicious three-course meal at The Garden Grill, on Sunday at 10:00 a.m. sharp, we were met by ecotherapist and holistic health practitioner Sue Judge to embark on our forest bathing journey. Not to be dramatic, but the two hours I spent with Sue might just have changed my life.

The appeal of spending time in nature and disconnecting from the chaos of the digital world is currently at a fever pitch. Being ‘off-grid’ is considered cooler than social media visibility, and Pinterest highlighted the popularity of ‘Digital Detox’ in their 2025 trend report, with searches for ‘digital detox ideas’ up by 72%. Forest bathing, like ‘unplugged cabins’ and phone-free days, is part of the new wave rejecting being chronically online and embracing natural, low-stimulation environments.

“Forest bathing (Shinrin-yoku) originated in Japan in the 1980s as a form of ecotherapy,” Judge tells Cosmopolitan UK. “It means ‘taking in the forest atmosphere’ through the senses — not hiking or exercise, but slow, intentional immersion in the natural environment.”

It’s proposed to be a sensory-led experience that encourages mindful and conscious interaction, with an emphasis on ‘be-ing’ rather than ‘do-ing. It usually includes slow walking through the forest, breathing deeply, touching leaves or tree bark, listening to nature sounds, and noticing the patterns, textures and smells of the forest.

Now we’re clearer on what forest bathing is, but what does a forest bathing session actually entail? Like me, you’ll be pleased to know that it doesn’t involve rolling on woodland debris or any stripping down that other forms of ‘bathing’ might encourage. Like a sound bath, the bathing aspect of this practice refers to immersing our senses to relax and rejuvenate the body, mind, and spirit.

“Forest bathing sessions normally involve spending an extended period of time in a woodland forest or green space,” explains Judge. “It would typically start with a grounding meditation and then deepening into our senses: Hearing, touch, feel, taste, and sight. Some time of reflection and, if time allows, nature-based crafts.”

At the end of a session, there’s time to reflect and notice the changes your time in nature has had on your physical and mental state. This time was the most transformative part of mine and my mom’s experience, and why I think it’s changed our relationship forever, but more on that later.

As you won’t be running around, rolling in mud (unless that's your prerogative, in which case, dress accordingly), or doing anything strenuous, you’re free to wear whatever best allows you to complete the session comfortably and without distraction. I personally like to overdress for any occasion, but found that a simple ensemble of black leggings, a sweater, a puffer jacket, and knee-high Hunter rainboots sufficed.

If you usually go walking in your sneakers but struggle with sensory difficulties around mud, dirt, and wet ground, I’d really recommend wearing a nice, sturdy pair of rainboots. They make my feet feel protected from the surfaces I’m walking over and are much easier to clean afterwards. Our session took place on an early October morning, just as the inevitable winter chill started to creep into the air, but if you’re forest bathing in the summer, adjust your attire accordingly.

Stress reduction

Mental Health UK’s Annual Burnout Report 2025 details that nine in ten (91%) of the adults surveyed experienced high pressure or stress at some point over the last year. Yikes. Thankfully, stress reduction is one of the key benefits of forest bathing, alongside reduced anxiety, better focus, improved mood, and an overall sense of well-being. “Forest bathing encourages coming out of our sympathetic nervous system—a state of arousal and fight, flight or freeze—and returning to our parasympathetic nervous system, a state of rest, digest, and repair,” notes Judge.

Anxiety and attention

Forest bathing, especially in tranquil green spaces, offers a reprieve from overstimulation, helping us feel grounded and present. For those with ADHD, this calming yet sensory-rich environment may be particularly beneficial. The multiple layers of sensory input — birdsong, wind, water, distant chatter — occupy the brain just enough to prevent overwhelm, creating space for mental quiet and relaxation.

This idea is supported by a growing body of research. Kuo and Taylor (2004) found that time spent in green outdoor settings was associated with reduced ADHD symptoms, including calmer behaviour and better concentration, compared to built environments. More recent work, such as Singh et al. (2024/2025) , has linked greater local vegetation and grass cover to improvements in attention among individuals with ADHD.

Nature-based interventions are also being explored beyond ADHD. Systematic reviews and pilot programs with autistic children (2019–2025) have reported increased social engagement, reduced stress, and fewer autism-typical behaviours, although larger trials are still needed.

Physiological effects

Spending time in nature has been shown to lower blood pressure, reduce cortisol, balance blood sugar levels, and increase heart rate variability—all contributing to overall stress reduction and improved sleep. Some people even report a perceived reduction in pain and a ‘sense of being seen and held by nature,’ especially when participating in group forest bathing, shares Judge.

Collective benefits

Beyond individual well-being, forest bathing can also foster pro-environmental behaviour, inspiring people to appreciate, protect, and nurture their surroundings, whether that means adopting more eco-friendly habits or educating themselves about climate action. After all, the small changes we make today could help shape a calmer, greener future for generations to come

What I really hoped to get out of my session with Judge was an introduction to something that could become part of my ‘surviving being neurodivergent kit’ that was free and didn’t involve any equipment or instructions to remember. Sure, a forest bathing session with an ecotherapist will cost you money at first, but the lessons you take away with you are well worth the price. It’s not like a therapy session that you pay for weekly, and when I asked Judge whether I could practice forest bathing without a practitioner, she actively encouraged it.

“You can practice forest bathing yourself, though it might be easier to be guided, especially in the beginning.” Sessions can be 1-1 or done in groups, so if you’re a neurodivergent person who struggles with social interaction or likes to have a trusted support person with you, it’s completely accessible.

When I first heard about forest bathing, I was dubious. I already spend plenty of time outside walking and running, what difference could intentionally experiencing nature really make? Apparently a lot.

It’s a crisp Sunday morning in October, and after a warm greeting in the lobby of Bishopstrow Hotel & Spa, Judge leads us outside to begin our forest bathing session in the hotel grounds.

We stand in the garden — a large open space with a vegetable and flower patch, an apple tree, and a gently bubbling stream. Ancient trees stretch tall around us, and despite the whoosh of traffic from the nearby road, the atmosphere is still and peaceful.

We start our session with a slow walk around the perimeter of the space, observing and familiarizing ourselves with the surroundings. As someone accustomed to speed walking, strolling at a leisurely pace was frustrating at first, but I realized that I wasn’t there to be productive. There was no train to catch or meeting to make, I was simply meant to be, not do.

Judge introduced us to the plants along the way – yarrow root is great for staunching bleeding; pluck sage leaves and verbena for a free, homemade tea. I resisted the urge to take my phone out and snap pictures of the beautiful flowers or the giant pumpkins resting in their patch. Judge never suggests that I leave my phone alone, but I think it wise considering the whole point of forest bathing is to help us reconnect with ourselves by disconnecting from digital distractions.

Next, we sit under a large oak tree, drinking mugs of tea and chatting about how we relate to nature, what we wish we had more of in our lives and what we wish we had less of. As two neurodivergent women with similar experiences of burnout and overstimulation, it was comforting to listen and be heard amongst the chorus of birdsong.

After a short meditation and poetry reading, we explore the space alone. I perch on the cool stone stoop of a pergola in the middle of the garden and observe the garden. I have a hyperactive mind that’s always chattering away, so without the distraction of a phone or someone else to talk to, I get antsy. But once I allowed myself to settle into the silence, I began to notice things. The lone swan paddling up and down the stream, the bubbling of the water itself, the twitter of birds in the trees above, the distant bark of a dog.

Lastly, Judge presents us with a bounty of natural objects she collected earlier that day, and encourages us to create a piece of art. My mom and I have never been good and working together, we have vastly different personalities, so naturally we make separate vigils at the base of a towering giant sequoia we're drawn to. I write the word ’love’ in a smattering of petals, leaves, chestnuts, and pinecones, while my mom produces a shrine with pears and twigs. We joined our separate artworks together with a trail of chestnuts, a symbol of how, despite our differences, we are still connected.

It might sound cringe, but we both feel proud of what we’ve created, and in the car on the way home, we discuss how the experience has left a sense of calm in our bones.

Our drive home from Wiltshire is pleasant, peaceful, and heavy with contemplation. Being in nature not only made us feel calmer, but also made us identify areas in our lives that aren’t serving our needs. Being surrounded by trees, greenery, and nature made us look at things differently. I suppose ’bathing’ is a fitting word. Immersing ourselves in nature, just for two hours, had the same effect on our busy, neurodivergent brains as sinking into a warm bubble bath at the end of a cold day.

Nature doesn’t require you to understand anything. It doesn’t require anything of you at all. The waves of relief I felt from not having to unpick anything, navigate expectations, or decipher any hidden social codes are what will keep me coming back to this practice. When burnout inevitably creeps in again, I’ll know exactly how to ground myself.