Eduardo Rincón, co-leader of the Section for Agriculture since the summer of 2024, in conversation with Wolfgang Held about life, Mexico, and becoming human.
Do you have a core anthroposophical idea that guides you?
I would say: the idea of the human being, as understood in anthroposophy. In light of everything happening in the world today, at all levels, I believe that becoming truly human is not only an option but a priority—from the inner development of our souls and our interactions with other beings, to our relationship with the earth and cosmos, to the deepest mystery of our times. This can be seen in many ways. For me, love and freedom are key aspects of becoming human, and working with the earth in agriculture is an ideal way to develop human qualities.
Is there any area of anthroposophy that is still unfamiliar to you?
Yes—many! Anthroposophy is such a vast and deep path of knowledge. For example, before coming to Europe, I had little contact with Mystery Dramas—they were not performed in Mexico. However, last year and this winter, I had the opportunity to immerse myself in them when they were performed during the Holy Nights at the Goetheanum. My wife and I studied them in advance, and when we went into the main hall and watched them, it had a profound effect on me. The opportunity to immerse myself in the Mystery Dramas is a significant and very revealing experience—I can apply much of it to the groups and communities that we work with. I think this is one of the things that made last year very different for me. I find it’s closely connected to our work in the Agriculture Section, our movement, and this year’s theme for our conference, “You Never Farm Alone: Living Communities for the Future.”
What book is currently on your desk?
I have several books at my desk because I’m constantly reading both for my work and for my personal development. Currently, I am immersed in the Leading Thoughts, the Michael Letters, and the book: Anthroposophy, a Fragment. This is for my personal research and also for work. I combine it with other readings that give me differing perspectives on life. I discovered a book that provides a historical review of events in Germany in the mid 1700’s, particularly in Jena: it’s the story of Wolfgang von Goethe and Caroline Schleeger Schelling, who was at the center of the creative world when Fichte, Hegel, Alexander von Humboldt, Novalis, Schelling and Schiller were all in Jena at this quite impressive moment in history.1 I’m enjoying it very much because it connects all my passions—nature, natural science, indirectly agriculture and art, and of course, Goethe’s development and the seeds for what later became anthroposophy.
What keeps hope alive in your soul?
I’m very fortunate because in my life, in my biography, maybe my karma, I am a hopeful person. I wake up every morning with hope, with enthusiasm, and I’ve really taken care of this. I’ve always nurtured this quality that I was blessed to be born with. Going into nature, reading and writing about agriculture, nature, and art are the protective sources that allow me to stay hopeful and feel that life has meaning. We can consider ourselves very lucky to have anthroposophy in this moment of history when things are so chaotic, out of rhythm, no longer make sense, and no rules apply. It offers guidance and orientation to the mission of the human being and of our world today.
You radiate calm and peace. Is that a natural gift or something you learned?
I smile that you should mention that—I’m not sure, but I suspect it might be related to various events in my life. I’ve been through difficult situations, both emotionally and physically, as well as chaotic and unstable events. It taught me to deal with such situations and cope with extreme conditions. It’s something I’ve tried to return to and learn from, and I think working with art and agriculture have helped me cultivate this capacity. Of course, sometimes I appear calmer than I really am inside! Sometimes there is a big hurricane inside me, but I can still keep a positive attitude and certain serenity.
You lived in the desert in Mexico. What did you learn from this barren landscape?
It’s not a classic sand desert—it’s a semi-arid shrubland characterized by a long dry season and a brief, intense rainy season. What was always most interesting in this landscape was the contrast. We had great disparity in relative humidity; there was extreme dryness and heat, giving way to a rainy season of lush green landscapes, high humidity, and towering clouds. During the yearly cycle, even daily, we experienced these two extremes, which fluctuated between the opposites of high temperatures and dryness during the day, and more humidity and cool temperatures at night. I think that living with these extremes taught me to appreciate the different aspects of life and its beauty: to cherish dry periods when life retreats underground or becomes invisible, and to surrender to the abundance of the rains when everything flourishes. Having lived in extreme conditions, I have experienced different climates—tropical, dry, temperate, mountainous—and places of high and low diversity. All of these taught me how to live with cycles, seasons, and rhythms, whether dramatic or subtle. Even in places like the equator, where there are fewer perceptible external differences, one can learn to experience rhythm in an inner, quieter, deeper way.
Mexico is a bridge between North and South America, between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. What does that mean to you?
Yes, Mexico is a bridge between different worlds in many ways. Biologically, it is an extremely species-rich country shaped by its geography, mountain ranges, and diverse climate zones, hosting both southern and northern tropical species. Mexico is home to the northernmost tropical rainforest on the American continent, just above the Tropic of Cancer. Further north, it shares many species that belong to the temperate climate zone of the United States. Historically and culturally, Mexico was part of Mesoamerica—a region where many different cultures emerged, comparable to the great empires of the Americas like the Incas.
After becoming a Spanish colony, Mexico became a bridge between Asia and Europe as part of the Manila galleon trade route. For 250 years, goods shipped from the port of Manila in the Philippines to Acapulco were transported across Mexico, shipped to Spain, and then sent to the rest of Europe. This trade route was of immense importance to commerce, especially the silver trade. It placed Mexico at the center of the Spanish Empire’s north–south and east–west trade routes. Now, as the northernmost Spanish-speaking country in the Americas, Mexico continues to combine the cultural characteristics of the north and south of the continent, as well as those of the indigenous peoples and the Spanish.
Thinking of the conference theme, “You never farm alone,“ what was the loneliest moment in your life?
While studying science at the university, I went through a profound crisis. I was unable to reconcile what first inspired me to look toward science and my growing desire to explore life, nature, and agriculture, with the science I encountered. I felt very lonely. I had not discovered any other way to understand the world. Despite not having been raised religiously, discovering Goethe and Anthroposophy opened a path to the spiritual world for me, helped dissolve that loneliness, and helped me move away from a reductionist, abstract way of looking at the world. This was very important.
Was that a moment of inner connection?
Yes—a newfound inner companionship—fostered by art, spirituality, and a sense that something deeper exists behind life. Ultimately, it inspired me to study life and seek a more meaningful understanding of agriculture than what I had known on our family farm. Human relationships are equally important to me. I enjoy cultivating my sense of humanity through being in contact with others and listening, as this also brings me a sense of companionship, and these remain the traits I value most.
Is there a trait or a particular part of yourself that you had to learn to integrate in order to love it?
Of course—many. When I was very young, uncertainty and fear most deeply affected me, especially before I found a spiritual path. I perceived a lot of things in nature that I couldn’t explain through science, and that filled me with fear and anxiety. I have been trying to conquer fear all my life and to transform it with the help of others. Also, for many years, I have been working to soften my tendency towards judgment and criticism. This shadow side seems related to my natural instinct to look deeply into things. I’ve been fortunate enough to move forward and meet both fear and judgment with greater awareness and understanding through my inner work in anthroposophy
Now you live in Switzerland—such a different world from Mexico. What are your impressions?
I live in Dornach—a multicultural and diverse community that embraces diversity. My work in the Agriculture Section takes me to many countries, and I feel that I have expanded my understanding of humanity. There are many aspects of Swiss society and life in Switzerland that I really cherish, and so many aspects that are different yet enriching for me. For example, there is a beauty in precision, in truthfulness, and in many other impressive qualities, such as the Swiss community’s capacity to work in groups and its openness to differences and decision-making. I really admire much about this country. Of course, I am also lucky enough to work at the Goetheanum, a community of broad-minded people.
In a YouTube interview, you talk about your inner calling. You want to connect life on Earth with the life within us humans. How does that work?
One question has preoccupied me for many years: “What is life, really?” Initially, I was able to gain an understanding of this mystery through biology and art, and then I expanded my view to include Goetheanism and Anthroposophy. Now, through my research on perception and the study of the seven life processes, all these themes seem to reveal that life is profoundly connected to the Earth and its evolution, as well as events on Earth. At the same time, life is connected with the cosmos and spiritual beings, with the human being at the center of these relationships. Exploring the seven life processes, especially as they occur in the human body, reveals a greater significance beyond the individual, to the Earth and the cosmos. For me, this understanding unfolds through anthroposophy and through living thinking, a living Earth, and living communities. These are the themes that we are going deeper into in our agricultural conferences.
This is profound research that continues to inspire me and shape my work with agriculture and anthroposophy. It continues to guide my questioning into how life is found, manifested, and experienced. What does a living thought mean? What does that have to do with our hearts? And how is our heart connected to thinking? These are all processes of life that lie at the heart of the anthroposophical worldview and are guiding questions central to my research and understanding of life.
