Biologics, Biodynamics, and Babylonstoren
In a past life, I shared a small office on the island of Manhattan with a brilliant physician named Brian. It was cramped for the two of us, but it was quiet, tidy, and had an entertaining birdseye view of 70th and York.
All the cases I was assigned involved patients with a severe autoimmune condition, and our research team studied treatments called biologics—a class of complex, bioengineered therapies that modify immune function. Unlike chemically synthesized drugs, biologics can only be produced by living systems. They are challenging to manufacture, difficult to store, and often represent a last, precious hope for many critically ill patients. Even now, thinking about their mysterious mechanisms and immense potential gives me chills.
As a research assistant, my role was to investigate every detail and—like an NBA point guard—coordinate the efforts of the dizzying array of specialists working on a single case. I pored over endless lab data, piecing together the puzzles hidden in each person’s blood and bones. I also learned the art of gently unearthing the psychological, emotional, and spiritual forces influencing their well-being. Over time, personal details formed larger constellations, revealing many issues for which we still have no medicine.
The moon influenced many of these symptomatic patterns. There’s little hard data to support it, but any clinician will attest to the full moon’s undeniable effect on living beings. If you’re skeptical, try Googling “human tidal waves.” Somehow, the moon amplifies existing conditions, dialing them up to 11. Babies lingering past their due dates are suddenly ready to join us, persons teetering on the edge of mania finally veer over the edge, and the microscopic armies waging war on an autoimmune patient’s body redouble their efforts.
The sun is our constant here on Earth, but our closest celestial neighbor—the moon—comes and goes, forever shifting its shape. Its elliptical orbit pulls it a full 26,000 miles closer to Earth at its nearest point before it boomerangs back out into space. It is upon the predictable paths and ever-changing shapes of this lunar body that the principles of biodynamic gardening are founded. These principles involve timing key tasks like sowing, planting, fertilizing, and harvesting to celestial cycles.
This past fall, I explored the biodynamic gardens of Babylonstoren, nestled in South Africa’s Western Cape, where they flourish under the stewardship of Gundula Deutschlander. During our time together, she spoke of sowing seeds just before the full moon—a phase in biodynamics associated with outward expansion and full expression. The new moon, by contrast, is a time of inward contraction, when a plant’s life force is drawn into its roots. The ancient Greeks saw the delicate silver sliver appearing just after the new moon as resembling a newly sprouted seed, and I have to agree.
The practice of biodynamics was founded by Rudolf Steiner, a visionary thinker with ideas that were unconventional for his time. Among his many achievements, he developed Waldorf education, an alternative approach to schooling. Like so many great thinkers, he used the lessons of the ancients to forecast trends and patterns yet to crystalize. Notably, he predicted that the world’s bees would face population collapse around the year 2000.
The strict biodynamic gardener will only plant trees and shrubs when the moon and Saturn are in opposition and will make fertilizer by packing manure into a cow horn and burying it to overwinter. So, I don’t plan to implement biodynamics immediately as a whole; we must walk before we run. But one look at the gardens at Babylonstoren is to know that I wanted to incorporate what practices I could into the gardens that I tend in the coming seasons.
Babylonstoren’s Healing Garden, nature’s pharmacy.
In addition to sowing seed in the days before the full moon, these are a few simple biodynamic practices I plan to implement this year:
Be mindful of daily rhythms. According to biodynamics the earth ‘breathes in’ each morning and ‘breathes out’ each evening, making morning an ideal time for planting, sowing, spreading compost, or applying liquid fertilizers to the soil, and evening an ideal time to apply foliar sprays.
A corner of one of the 12 acres of manicured fruit and vegetable gardens at Babylonstoren.
Prune during the new moon. When the sun and moon join each other in the same part of the sky, growth is concentrated in the plant's root system making it an ideal time to make adjustments to the branch architecture of trees and shrubs.
Tune in to apogee and perigee. By way of reminder, apogee is when the moon is at its furthest point from Earth, when it’s influence on tides and other watery bodies is weakest. This makes it a good time to harvest fruit like berries and tomatoes for less watery, more concentrated flavor. However, sowing watery, leafy crops like lettuce and spinach during perigee–when the moon is closest to Earth–can enhance yield and flavor. This calculator may aid you in the endeavor.
I have long since traded my lab coat for the far less formal attire of the garden. Though the healing potential of biologic treatments still captivates me, I find myself increasingly drawn to the foundational aspects of wellness—those too often overlooked. Chief among them is our connection to the earth and the natural rhythms that sustain us.
While I appreciate the many privileges of modern life, I also marvel at its unintended consequences—the strange substances and relentless stresses that can drive a person’s body to turn against itself. Perhaps if we embraced more biodynamic practices, we would have less need for biologics—and many other treatments as well.
Regardless, greater attention to the earth beneath us, the stars above us, and the subtle shifts within us is medicine we all need.
A special thanks to Gundula for welcoming me into the Healing Garden and letting me get my hands in the dirt.
Hadeda Ibis, purportedly the loudest bird in Africa.
The greenhouse cafe, serving up produce from the farm and other confections.
Additional resources on biodynamic garden practices:
The Josephine Porter Institute: a producer and distributor of biodynamic preparations (including the cow horn fertilizer mentioned earlier.)
Biodynamic Demeter Alliance: for educational materials, conferences, and workshops.
Biodynamic Gardening, by Monty Waldin: a practical, thorough guide for beginners.
I’d love to hear about anyone else’s experience with these practices if you care to share.
Photos by Natalie Crist
