Science behind the health benefits of nature

It feels a bit weird to be making a post just before Christmas / around the winter solstice, and for it to be a topic I could post at any other time of year. I feel like I should be writing about the symbolism of the solstice, and how it's a time to rest and reflect and face the darkness and wait for the light to return. I even feel, with all the rubbish news around and people struggling so much at the moment, that perhaps I shouldn't post anything at all. But I haven't planned anything like the former, got this written pretty quickly for a change and would like to publish it, and, well, perhaps this little post will help someone, be a small pleasant distraction or an encouragement to get out for a walk or something.

I'm sure everyone reading this is at least vaguely aware that being outside in nature is good for us. It boosts our mood, reduces stress, improves ability to focus, etc. What's less understood is why that is. Well, research is beginning to tell us! I've long been interested in science, and more recently in how the brain works, and when in a recent college Group Tutorial session we were asked to create a short presentation on a topic we were interested in (but that was at least vaguely related to the course), this sprung to mind. And I thought it'd be a nice blog post, too.

Back in the spring lockdown, every morning I tuned into the Facebook Live 'Self-Isolating Bird Club' broadcasts by Chris Packham and his zoologist step-daughter Megan McCubbin. A guest they had on a few times was Emma Mitchell, a nature-lover with chronic depression who trained as a biologist. She's fascinated by how nature makes us feel better, and shared some of the science behind it. The research is all fairly recent, scientists are only just beginning to understand and there's a lot more we don't know the mechanisms behind yet. But it's so interesting. So... 

Exposure to green spaces, plants, and water does lots of things:

• boosts the immune system
• lowers heart rate and blood pressure
• reduces stress
• improves mood
• increases ability to focus
• accelerates recovery from surgery or illness
• increases energy level
• improves sleep

I'll start with phytoncides. In layman's terms - plant oils. They are airborne chemicals released by plants to fend off pests and disease, and will just be floating around in the air around you whenever you're within a couple of feet of some plants. When humans breathe in phytoncides, two things happen:

• heart rate and blood pressure lower
• cortisol (stress hormone) reduces

So we feel slightly more positive when we're among plants. Even indoor plants can make a difference, they still give off those oils. Herbs are actually great for this - rub them between your fingertips and inhale the glorious scent. You'll get a hit of phytoncides, and a hit of dopamine (a feel-good hormone) from enjoying the scent. Anxiety also reduces when we're around plants.

Phytoncides also have an effect on our immune system. Our bodies respond to them by increasing production of 'natural killer cells' - a type of white blood cell which helps kill off cells infected with viruses or tumors. 

And it's not just plants on land; chemicals given off by marine life have been shown to help reduce allergies and asthma.

Now onto the soil. Soil contains a type of beneficial bacteria, which activates groups of neurons (nerve cells in the brain) responsible for producing serotonin. Serotonin is a hormone which helps us feel good. Low levels of it contribute to depression. The bacteria also activates neurons related to our immune response. So if you're digging in the garden or topping up the soil in a plant pot, rub your hands in that good clean dirt, bring them to your nose, and breathe in deep! I'll leave it to your judgement about doing that when outdoors elsewhere, haha.

Water! Even sitting by an urban fountain for a while can be beneficial, if you can't get to a stream, lake, or the sea. As with phytoncides, water has a few effects. The sound of water reduces cortisol levels. Seeing water dials down our fight-or-flight response, calms us down a bit. And looking at water, where there's very little going on, gives our brain a little break from the almost-constant visual stimulation we are subjected to and surrounded by in our modern lives. There's also something called the Mammalian Dive Reflex, which among other things means that when our faces are submerged in cold water and we're holding our breath, our heart rate slows. So next time you're feeling a bit worked up, maybe fill your bathroom basin with cold water, take a deep breath, and plunge your face into it for as long as you can. Even if you're in a public bathroom, you could still probably benefit from holding your breath and splashing cold water on your face a few times.

A few last points:

• the colour green makes us feel more positive
• patterns in nature (symmetry, spirals, fractals, waves, etc.) - our brains are drawn to these and react positively to them
• natural sounds, especially birdsong, has been shown to be more relaxing than meditation apps (check out the RSPB Birdsong Radio!)
• seeing, hearing, watching wildlife gives us a spark of joy - and a hit of dopamine

So. As in all aspects of life, even the little things can make a difference. Getting out into green spaces - even just a city park - is so important. If you have any outdoor space, put some potted plants in there. If you don't, then get some houseplants, or windowsill herbs. Have photos of trees and landscapes and water you can look at. Go for walks. Sit by a fountain. Listen to birdsong. Rub your hands in the soil and let it run through your fingers. Go wild swimming. Look up and around and take notice, see the patterns and symmetry and the strong little plants pushing through the cracks in the paving stones. If you have a garden, have a go at making some of it wildlife-friendly by bringing in native species of plants - that'll increase your chances of seeing wildlife and therefore of a little dopamine. Nature can be a real healer. Don't underestimate the power of seemingly small, simple things.

Summer 2018 big trip - day 18

Tuesday 14th August

When I said at the end of the previous post, about the last day in Sydney, that I wished I didn't have to go, I meant it seriously. The day before, as we got into the train into the city, I had to stop myself crying. I focused on enjoying Sydney during the day, kept my thoughts away from where I would be twenty-four hours later, but back at the house in the evening I could no longer avoid it and I did cry. I did not want to go to Bali. It wasn't that I was just nervous, or wished I could have more time in Australia. I wanted to not go.

I'm sure you're all wondering "What?! Why?!" I did, too. I had chosen to go, wanted to go, it sounded like a nice and interesting place. It was somewhere new that would be very different to anywhere I'd been before, stretching my comfort zone, so I was nervous, but over the previous couple of weeks a fear and dread strong enough to make me want to not go at all had developed. Some far-away rational part of me knew that I would be fine: Bali is Australia's holiday destination of choice, their Spain or Greece, tons of people including families with kids go there every year and have a great time. You just use common sense, like everywhere else. I wasn't going anywhere dangerous. But that message wasn't sinking in. I knew that what I was feeling was a completely irrational over-reaction, but I didn't know how to stop it.

I think it stemmed from some of the travel advice I'd been given. The fact that vaccinations were recommended in the first place meant there could be diseases in the water, the food, the air, and of course animals. All the advice was commonsense stuff, but the grumpy doctor I got my third rabies jab from in Cairns went a little bit more worst-case-scenario than the UK nurses had. I'm not blaming him, he was just doing his job and didn't know he was talking to an anxious overthinker.

Of course, I had to go. That's a self-imposed "had to". It was just fear of the unknown, it would be fine. I knew I was very lucky to have the opportunity to go there. I didn't want to lose the money I'd already spent or spend any more. I didn't want to disappoint my sister, whose suggestion going there had been. Most of all I knew that the amount of self-loathing and disappointment in myself I'd feel if I didn't go would be just as awful as the fear. With help from my poor worried mum, I managed to calm down, finish repacking my suitcase, and sleep.

Our flight was late morning. The four of us got a taxi to the airport and Mum and Gary were dropped off first at the Domestic Terminal, so we said goodbye there. After checking in at the International Terminal, Cat and I went for breakfast - poached eggs in a tomato sauce with chorizo and peppers and a bit of grated cheese melting on top, with some toasted ciabatta, yum!

The flight took about six hours and, after taking an hour and a half to get from the back of the passport control queue to the front, we were met by our hotel transfer driver, who looked so happy and relieved that we were finally there, poor man. He was very friendly and cheerily welcomed us to Bali. I like the musical way they pronounce it - "ba-lee" rather than "bar-lee".

Of course, now that I was actually in Bali and could see what it was like for myself, I was able to relax a bit. I can't say I liked the urban areas we drove through - hot, humid, noisy, crowded, crazy traffic, narrow pavements - but it wasn't that bad and I felt a bit better. Our hotel was in Kuta, only ten minutes from the airport. It was early evening when we arrived so we unpacked a little, went and found the pool (which was on a lovely rooftop terrace overlooking the sea), then went out to find dinner. We came across an outdoor warung (a small restaurant or café) and went in there, ordered simple grilled duck with rice, which was good, then afterwards had a short wander round a couple of streets, full of tourist shops selling exactly the same things (lovely clothes though) then went back to the hotel and had an early night.