I showed up at Joaquin Miller Park in Oakland, California that afternoon for the purported mental-health boost. The four other attendees and I exchanged pleasantries by the trailhead as the sun baked our arms. All of us were women—although San Francisco’s “Forest Bathing Club” Meetup group boasts 428 members across the gender spectrum. However, I’d discovered this outing not on the Meetup but via a late-night, anxiety-induced Google search.

We started off by walking down a paved path. Talking among ourselves was not discouraged, exactly, but neither was it encouraged. A children’s birthday party had claimed a coveted nook among the redwoods to our left. The streaming tinsel of their conical hats could be seen between the branches. I trained my gaze higher, slowly, until it nearly grazed the sky. Six shades of green. A short while later we were in the forest proper. Airplanes could be heard overhead, but just barely. In the woods, the sounds of our wandering were deafening. Each step we took brought an orchestra to life. At one point a blanket emerged from our instructor’s pack. We lay on our backs in a circle, our bottom halves flat against the earth. A stray ant traced the length of my index finger and disappeared behind a rock. The five of us were invited to consider the tops of the trees above, how they swayed even when thick trunks kept them rooted. We closed our eyes as our instructor continued to speak in soothing tones. My mind, blissfully, went blank.

The popularity of forest bathing in the U.S. is unsurprising, particularly in metropolitan areas where people may wish to get outside more often than they wish to go outdoors. To many, the former sounds closer to a stroll in the park than a trek up a mountain. Forest bathing sits in the middle of this false dichotomy, one where people associate being in nature with roughing it or struggle to think of experiencing nature as relaxing. Instead, forest bathers intentionally go outside to relax with nature, and allow nature to help them relax.

An entire industry has cropped up around the practice of forest bathing, ranging from high-end spas eager to lure guests with eco-therapy offerings to training sessions around the globe for the next generation of forest bathing instructors. Tuition for those looking to become formally certified as forest bathing guides runs upwards of $3,200, not including travel, lodging, or food. Some might scoff, but upcoming training sessions in the Berkshires as well as in Northern California are already at capacity.