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 of the cases I was assigned were affected by a severe autoimmune condition, and our research team studied treatments called biologics—a class of alchemic mixtures that modify immune function. Unlike chemically derived drugs, only living systems can produce biologics. They are difficult to manufacture, difficult to store, and represent a precious Hail Mary pass at wellness for some very ill people. Thinking about their mysterious mechanisms and enormous potential still gives me chills.
As a research assistant, my role was to dig to the bottom of everything and—like an NBA point guard—coordinate the efforts of the dizzying number of specialists often working on a single case. I pored over endless lab data, assembling the puzzle that presented itself in each person’s blood and bones. I also learned the art of gently unearthing the unseen psychological, emotional, and spiritual forces impacting each person’s well-being. Over time, personal details formed larger constellations and revealed many issues we still don’t have medicine for.
The moon played into many such symptomatic patterns. There's little hard data to point to, but any clinician will attest to the power a full moon exerts over living things. Google “human tidal waves” if you don’t believe me. Somehow the moon takes an existing situation and dials it up to 11. Babies lingering past their due date are suddenly ready to join us, people teetering on the verge of mania finally veer over the edge, and the microscopic armies that wage war against an autoimmune patient’s own body double down on their efforts.
The sun is our constant here on Earth, but our closest celestial neighbor comes and goes, and is 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 which lie on the Western Cape of South Africa and flourish under the stewardship of Gundula Deutchlander. During our time together, she spoke of sowing seeds in the days just before the full moon which, in biodynamics, is a time of outward expansion and full expression. The new moon, however, is a time of inward contraction, when a plant’s life force is concentrated downward in its root system. The ancient Greeks thought the curving silver sliver visible just after the new moon resembled a newly sprouted seed, and I have to agree with them.
The practice of biodynamics was founded by Rudolf Steiner, who had some unusual ideas for his time, and who–among other achievements–developed an alternative form of schooling known as Waldorf education. Like so many great thinkers, he used the lessons of the ancients to forecast trends and patterns yet to crystalize. He correctly 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. Although the healing prospects of biologic treatments still captivate me, I find myself thinking about the foundational aspects of wellness that are all too often ignored. Chief among them is our connection to the earth and to the natural rhythms that provide sustenance. Along with the many privileges of modern life, I marvel at what it has inflicted upon us–the strange substances and stresses that could convince a person’s body to turn on itself. If we incorporated more biodynamics perhaps there would be less need for biologics, and many other treatments for that matter.
Either way, 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
