11 minute read

Anthroposophical Views

from The Active Issue

by HerbologyNews

from The Active Issue, page 56

Looking Forward

Finding common ground

Dora Wagner

Living like a tree, single and free / yet as united as a forest, / this longing is ours

Hikmet, Trans. Kraft (2008)

Without their help, nothing works. They are involved in our every movement; in breathing, hearing, seeing, laughing, speaking. Our diaphragm and our tongue are muscles. Every heartbeat is a muscle’s contraction. Humans have over 650 such contractile organs. Their remarkable ability to contract and relax in concert with each other in a large cooperative network is apparent in the changes of shape and external movements of our bodies. Even the very smallest— musculus stapedius —is of huge importance in protecting our ears and regulating our exposure to high volumes. Anthroposophy, in its tripartite view of the human being, assigns muscles and motion to the ‘metabolic-limb system’, which is also considered to set the tone for our will.

Human motion includes many activities of which we are conscious— perceiving and speaking, the dexterous movements of our hands and fingers, as well as more dreamlike, rhythmic processes such as walking, breathing, or the beating of our hearts. Almost completely detached from consciousness, and similar to sleep, are the slow, writhing movements of our intestines, the flow of our blood, and even the permanent motion of the cells of our immune system, creating inflammation when things foreign to our organism need to be digested. All of these varied functions are achieved through three basic fibre types— skeletal, cardiac, and smooth. But muscles are also able to change their size or composition to adapt to changing demands.

Skeletal and cardiac muscles are known as ‘striated’ because they reveal light and dark stripes under a microscope. Smooth muscles do not show these stripes. They are found, for example, in the digestive and respiratory tract, the blood vessels or the urinary tract. Since they, like our heart muscle, are controlled only by our autonomic nervous system, they function almost automatically. By contrast, skeletal muscles are attached to our bones by tendons, and so are subject to our will. For example, when we instruct our body to raise its forearm, our bicep tenses while its antagonist— the tricep — relaxes. Like a rope, skeletal muscles are made up of a single structure, surrounded by a sheath of connective tissue. This sheath— the fascia — itself consists of many fibre-bundles, known as muscle fascicles, which in turn are composed of individual muscle fibres, called muscle cells. Actually, the term ‘muscle cell’ is misleading; these myocytes are in fact made up of several individual primary units that have fused together into a multinucleated cell (Schwegler, 2011).

Besides muscle soreness, strains, and tears as the result of overuse, accident, lack of exercise or, as I have recently experienced, prolonged immobilisation, the signs and symptoms of more serious myopathies vary widely. They often include rapid muscle fatigue after exertion or at rest, cramp-like muscle pain, progressive muscle atrophy or orthopaedic damage due to deformation of joints and bones. For the common muscular aches and pains we have probably all experienced, one plant is particularly effective: Arnica montana (Arnica).

The German name for the plant is Berg- Wohlverleih, literally ‘Mountain’s wellbeinglend’. Anyone who wants to encounter this plant in its natural habitat has to climb up high: Arnica montana is most at home at an altitude of about 1000-1500m. It grows on low-calcium and acidic moor soils, in heather forests and in unfertilised mountain meadows. Even in environments where fallen trees turn to decay and the ground is torn up, the herb is still able to fit firmly into its surroundings, since Arnica takes root in the humus layer, penetrating it with thin stolons that emerge from a bulbous rhizome. The plant is able to withstand constant violation, both below and above ground. Besides moulds growing on the plant, it is typically invaded by flies of the generae Tripeta arnicivora and Tetritis arnicae and their larvae, which feed in the flowerheads. The root is affected by a fungus, which inadvertently contributes to its function. From this atmosphere of breakdown and decay, each plant lives in a kind of autocracy, tolerating no other of its genus within a radius of about 30cm.

When stretching forth its bright yellow flower heads, from June to August, Arnica is said to carry the wild spirit of the wolf, and so is also named the ‘Wolf Flower’. More poetically, perhaps, the mountain sun flashing in the blossoms is said to recall the twinkling yellow eyes of a wolf. In my ancestors' imaginations this animal roamed through the late summer grains when the wind rustled the corn heads. The wolf symbolised the power of the field, the spirit of the grain, and was supposed to provide the energy for ripening. As soon as he left the field, the grain would wither. To prevent this ‘corn-wolf’ escaping, the farmers put Arnica around their fields. When the grain was cut, the wolf would slip into the last sheaf, which was then decorated with Wolf Flowers and carried into the village amid great celebrations.

Arnica was also put around fields on St. John's Day, to protect the grain from the demon Bilwis, traditionally thought responsible for the furrows caused by grazing game. One of the most important of St. John's herbs, alongside St. John's Wort (Hypericum perforatum) and ferns (Polypodiopsidae spp.), Arnica— dedicated to the Germanic goddess Freya —could not be excluded from any decent solstice ritual. It also played a role in weather rituals, being used as incense during thunderstorms: ‘Put on Arnica, put on Arnica, so that the weather can part!’.

Against all odds, the plant manages to establish its vital root and in summer its bright flower seems to open in the blink of an eye; from a striking four- to eight-leaved light green rosette pressed close to the ground, a sturdy stem with fine silvery hairs pushes up to 60cm tall, suddenly giving birth to a large flower at the end of its shoot. Arnica seems to live in the polarity of root and flower, unfolding entirely in its flowering impulse while holding back any lush foliage. The flower heads, exposed to nature’s forces of heat and light, cold and wind, often look somewhat dishevelled and deformed. They are certainly not as radiantly harmonious as other Compositae, such as Marguerites (Leucanthemum vulgare), Daisies (Bellis perennis) or Asters (Aster amellus). As with all Compositae, the flower heads are made up of many tiny individual florets, tiny tubes gathering in the centre, encircled by larger tubes with long, radiating leaves that we see as the ‘rays’ of the flower. The marginal petals of Arnica sit irregularly in a circle around the central cluster. Yet, when the flower unfolds in the sunshine, and its wondrous arrangement of florets bursts into yellow-red glowing bloom, it is easy to understand why Arnica is known as ‘Feuerblume’ (Fire Flower) in Bavaria and Austria (Hegi, 1931). In the course of the summer, in the axils of two small opposite, almost parallel-veined stem leaves, slightly smaller flower heads appear after the terminal flower heads have faded. These ‘doppelganger flowers’ are still well suited to preparing Arnica tincture. Generally, in homeopathy a preparation is made from the root, whereas in anthroposophical medicine the whole plant is used— from root to flower.

Arnica’s flowers are accompanied by a spicy, aromatic, delicate fragrance, which is not only specific to the aerial parts of the plant, but also permeates the rootstock and the rhizome, which forms new pairs of leaves every year. The entire plant is perennial, withstanding the harsh mountain winters by retracting its strength into the rootstock. Until a couple of years ago, it was not considered possible to cultivate Arnica montana, due to its complex symbioses with grasses, so it only grew in the wild. As the plant is protected, it has often been replaced in remedies by the more common Meadow Arnica (Arnica chamissonis), which has similar healing properties. For the last fifteen years, however, a cultivar of the species has been made available for cultivation, such that numerous affordable remedies can now be found in pharmacies. Needless to say, the natural habitats of wild Arnica still need special protection from water deprivation, fertilising, mowing and, of course, the digging up of roots.

Arnica’s medicinal applications are many and varied. In Germany, almost everybody knows ‘Arnika’ as a reliable first aid remedy for all kinds of injuries and pains. If you have bruised, bumped, sprained, or twisted any part of your body, and even when a bone has been broken, Arnica oil is massaged in, or compresses of diluted Arnica tincture, gels or ointments are applied. For example, Arnica essence— usually made from the flowers —is applied as a poultice for sprains and bruises by soaking a cloth in 1/4 litre of water with 1 tablespoon of the tincture added. The more recent the injury, and the more severe the overheating or swelling, the more advisable a watery application, such as a poultice or a gel. In the case of older injuries, however, ointments are to be preferred, as they tend to warm the area of injury and thus promote the dissolution of haematomas or, in the case of a pulled muscles, stimulate healing processes.

Depending on the concentration, the ingredients of the herb are highly toxic and can cause side effects when taken internally, e.g., as a herbal tea. Potentised globules or drops of Arnica montana are probably the most widespread form of internal application in anthroposophical therapy. These are given for blunt injuries, against pain, but also after operations. For fresh injuries, 5 globules D6 are taken immediately, then four to five times a day. After operations, D6 or D12 is recommended. Where there is infection with severe muscle pain and strain of the limbs, often accompanied by the sensation that ‘the bed is too hard’, 15 globules of D12 or D30 can be dissolved in a glass of water, from which one teaspoon is taken initially and then every half an hour. This often works better than the usual painkillers. Arnica is also used in anthroposophical hospitals for more serious illnesses such as heart attacks, angina pectoris, concussion, or strokes. Warm pulse compresses with Arnica essence, for example, are additionally supportive for heart complaints while cooling Arnica ‘bonnets’ are used for head conditions (Sommer, 2011).

Being afflicted with arteriosclerosis, the poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe suffered his first heart attack in late February 1823. The ‘invincible pain’ in his chest threatened the end of the 73-year-old, as bloodletting with leeches failed to bring relief. Then the personal physician of a Duke had the idea of treating the patient with Arnica tea. Days later, Goethe had found his way back to life, whereupon he eulogized the plant in the most graceful way, exalting its energetic effects (Eckermann, 1984):

But, when life and death began their struggle within me, I felt that the hosts of life, with this flower on their banner, were enforcing a breakthrough and the hostile-stagnant, the deadlyoppressive was being prepared for its extinction. Rejuvenated, by recovery I praise this plant in the highest tones, and yet it is only she who praises herself, the truly inexhaustible nature.

It is not surprising that Arnica— a plant thatpossesses an extraordinary ability to hold itsown in an atmosphere of decomposition anddisintegration —can support us in such amiraculous way. In any kind of trauma or injury,this first-aider herb, with its balancing power,is able to stimulate healing processes andcontribute to regeneration and restructuring.Through our capacity for consciousness,humans are the only creatures on Earth thatdevelop a will from their wanting. Perhaps weshould take a leaf out of Arnica's book,empower ourselves to act even under difficultconditions, and manifest our longing for livesof freedom in a forest of togetherness.