The forest bathing guide helping New Yorkers slow down

On a crisp November afternoon, a small flock of New Yorkers, most in their 50s or older, sat on the ground in a fenced-in field in Riverside Park, eyes closed, hands rustling the leaves around them, mouths open and tongues lifted toward the sky. Looking ridiculous wasn’t their biggest concern. They were too busy following the forest therapy guide’s directives, including her call to imagine the sounds of nearby cars as ocean waves and the prewar condos looming over the park as rocks.

Their guide through this excursion into the imaginary was Lori Klamner, who leads free sessions of what is known as forest bathing, offered through the Riverside Park Conservancy. Her next monthly 90-minute walk will be on Dec. 18.

As the winter solstice approaches, the darkest stretch of the year is still ahead — as are mild seasonal blues and a busy holiday season. “So it is especially important to take care of yourself,” Klamner said in an email to prospective forest bathers, citing the mood and immune system benefits of spending time outdoors.

The practice of forest bathing, or forest therapy, means immersing yourself in greenery, a practice that Japanese researchers in the 1980s dubbed shinrin-yoku. This use of nature as therapy had long been practiced in Japan and in Indigenous communities around the globe. Researchers, including at the Japanese Forest Agency, have linked it to everything from quicker healing in hospital patients to lowering blood pressure.

Origin story

Klamner, 65, developed her love of nature early on, hiking in the Catskills with her parents. Born in Brooklyn and raised in Rockland County, her family owns woodlands there that she still cares for. This nurtured her lifelong interest in ecology, land management and trail maintenance. She taps into these skills weekly as a volunteer park tender in Riverside Park, a role that involves weeding, raking, planting new plants and, especially in the past few years of drought, a lot of watering.

Klamner has made a living as a massage therapist for about 40 years and has also worked as a personal trainer and esthetician. These jobs allowed her to hike, camp, volunteer on cleanups, and steward her family woods — and kept her moving: “I would not last a job three weeks if I had to sit all day,” she said.

In 2017, while debating whether to return to school, Klamner read a National Geographic article on forest bathing and something clicked. She envisioned it as a way to lead groups outdoors, combining physical activity with mental health benefits. “I would love to just be the New York City ‘get everybody outdoors’ person,” she said.

When her children were New York City public school students, it had bothered Klamner that on cold days, recess meant 20 minutes of a Disney movie in the auditorium instead of outdoor play. Even though her children attended a school just blocks from Central Park, they only went to the park a few times a year. “In other countries, kids go out in every single kind of weather,” said Klamner, citing a practice especially common in Nordic countries.

Richard Louv’s book “Last Child in the Woods” helped her find the words for the disheartening reality that children (and many adults) today spend less time outdoors: “nature deficit disorder.” She began exploring forest therapy courses as a way to tackle this gap.

The ups and downs

The pandemic opened the door to online forest therapy training and certification through the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy. Soon after, Klamner started leading forest bathing walks through a partnership with the Riverside Park Conservancy. She still delights in the memory of that first walk, when about 20 people came to meditate near the cherry trees, sit on the edge of a rock and take in the river. “It was one of the best days of my life,” she said, adding she felt “high as a kite.”

Funding, however, is limited. She is paid for four walks during the summer, but most of the time Klamner is volunteering. Klamner has reached out to NYC Parks and other organizations, but sponsored opportunities have been hit-or-miss. And forest bathing attendance can also be unpredictable: out of 16 sign-ups, maybe four of them show up, she said.

Despite the challenges, the work fuels her. “It keeps me feeling playful and young,” Klamner said. She continues learning, especially about working with young children and people who have mental health challenges or physical impairments. Once her husband retires next year, she plans to expand offerings out of the city, to places like Bear Mountain.

Takeaways for New Yorkers new to forest bathing

But Klamner says you don’t have to go to the woods — or even on one of her guided walks in Riverside Park — to enjoy the benefits of forest bathing: “You do not have to get on a train and go Upstate or go out to your relatives in the country,” she said. “New Yorkers, we are surrounded by nature.” So whether you’re sitting on a neighborhood park bench or contemplating a house plant, here are her three tips to get started:

Slow down and breathe: Walk slowly or sit in one spot.

Let your body and mind tune in to the natural stimuli, without any expectation: “Allow your senses to absorb the information that’s coming from that nature, whatever the nature is that’s around you.”

Check in with yourself: How do you feel? Let go of expectations: The sights and the sounds around you might be overwhelming, noisy and not calming. “You can’t know what it is going to be. If you’re seeking calming, you have a desired outcome. You might not get calming. You just have to be open to whatever the experience is. You’re going to learn something about yourself. And if it isn’t the right place, try a different place.”