Before industrial agriculture, farmers worked with moon cycles and natural rhythms. At Cuixmala, a 25,000-acre estate on Mexico's Pacific coast, these ancient practices are experiencing a remarkable revival. What started as courses in biodynamic farming has become something much more transformative—a bridge between worlds, uniting local agricultural workers with estate managers in shared learning.
"What was incredible was that they came here to give lessons, but we'd invite people who'd want to come from outside. So what we had, we had the typical thing they still have, I hope, anyway. The car with the loudspeaker, come to Quicksmota for some courses of biodynamic on such and such day."
Alix Goldsmith Marcaccini, who now stewards this vast conservation property established by her father Sir James Goldsmith in the 1980s, describes how these educational initiatives began. Working with "a crazy German professor called Ferdinand Van Druska" and later a Mexican biodynamic expert, the estate opened its doors to anyone interested in learning traditional farming methods aligned with natural cycles.
The biodynamic approach at Cuixmala represents more than agricultural technique—it embodies a worldview that sees luxury in protection rather than exploitation. As Gregorio Von Hildebrand, a conservation expert familiar with the property, explains the broader context: "The conversation is steering towards" creating "financial mechanisms to make money out of what's standing forest, right? The value of a standing forest must be much higher than the value of a timber or soil or whatever."
This philosophy permeates every aspect of the estate's operations. Unlike the industrial model that Alix's father witnessed in his business career—spanning food, pharmaceuticals, and other industries—Cuixmala was designed as a place "where the soil was clean, the water from the river was clean, that we could plant more trees."
The biodynamic courses became a powerful example of this integrated approach. Rainbow Nelson, who has worked extensively with regenerative systems, observed how the educational format naturally broke down barriers: "I could see by the end of it, by the end of the week, those people who work here, the land, people up there, and they've always been separate for some weird reason. And they all came together, and it was such a beautiful energy."
The timing of biodynamic practices follows natural rhythms that industrial agriculture has largely abandoned. As Alix explains, "biodynamic depends of the month, of the moon, of this and that. What tree bark is ready? What plants here? So it's up to him to tell us when." This dependence on lunar cycles and seasonal timing creates a different relationship with the land—one that requires patience, observation, and deep listening.
The educational impact extends far beyond agricultural technique. When the biodynamic professor came to give courses at the hacienda, local workers participated alongside family members. Alix recalls her daughter's involvement: "Leah went there and they were really impressed because she was really, imagine, the cow shit and doing this and that. They weren't expecting the daughter of the bosses."
This breaking down of hierarchies reflects a fundamental principle of traditional ecological knowledge—that wisdom flows in all directions, and that those who work directly with the land often possess insights that formal education cannot provide.
The estate's approach to land stewardship has yielded measurable results. Despite facing two major hurricanes—one in 2011 and another in 2015—that devastated thousands of trees, the property now supports more wildlife than when the Goldsmith family first acquired it. "We have the healthiest population of... The little clouded, the clouded leopards, tigrillos," Alix reports, noting the thriving feline populations.
The integration of traditional knowledge with modern conservation extends to the estate's relationship with local communities. With approximately 300 staff members, each representing families of four or more, the property has become what Alix describes as essentially "four or five families here really. And it's all the cousins, the sister-in-law, the this, the that."
This multi-generational workforce brings deep local knowledge that complements the biodynamic approaches being taught. Many employees have been with the estate since its founding, creating continuity that allows for long-term ecological observation and adaptive management.
The success of the biodynamic courses points toward expanded educational opportunities. As Rainbow Nelson suggests, there's potential for creating "a center of Transición Agroecológica and hospitality training" that could serve the broader region. Such initiatives would build on the estate's experience of bringing together diverse groups around shared learning.
The educational model also addresses practical challenges facing rural communities. By providing training in both traditional ecological knowledge and modern hospitality standards, the programs create pathways for local economic development that don't require abandoning connection to the land.
"I think we need to do more like BioDyne, I think we need to grow more. Because we know there's going to be a shortage of food, so you're going to have to feed everyone around the villages."
This vision of expanded food production using biodynamic methods reflects an understanding that true conservation must serve human communities as well as wildlife. The estate's approach suggests that protecting large landscapes requires creating economic models that make conservation financially viable while supporting local livelihoods.
The biodynamic renaissance at Cuixmala offers lessons that extend far beyond this single property. By demonstrating how ancient agricultural wisdom can inform modern conservation practice, the estate provides a template for integrating traditional knowledge with contemporary environmental challenges.
The success of bringing together local workers, property managers, and outside experts in shared learning experiences points toward new models of environmental education—ones that honor existing knowledge while introducing complementary approaches. As the estate continues to evolve its educational programs, it may well become a center for spreading biodynamic principles throughout Mexico's agricultural communities.
The question now is how to scale these insights while maintaining the intimate, place-based character that makes them effective. Can the marriage of ancient wisdom and modern conservation that flourishes at Cuixmala take root in other landscapes, other communities? The answer may determine whether we can create truly regenerative relationships with the land that sustain both human communities and the wild world they depend upon.
The Biodynamic Renaissance: How Ancient Agricultural Wisdom is Transforming Modern Conservation at Cuixmala
Listening to the landscape, learning from nature