Leisha Let’s get something clear. Symbiosis isn’t a fairy tale. It’s not a sweet song of unity and harmony. It’s a gritty, often uncomfortable dance of survival. Push and pull, give and take, competition woven into cooperation. That’s the real rhythm of nature. When you zoom into the microscopic world, things get a lot messier than our polished ideals suggest. Microbiomes—those vast, invisible ecosystems in soil, water, air, and within our own bodies—are layered with complexity we’re only beginning to grasp. And not all of it is beautiful.
Take Helicobacter pylori, for instance. This gut bacterium has a reputation for causing ulcers and even stomach cancer. But it also serves a protective role, guarding against certain esophageal conditions. Or look at Actinobacteria. It’s a growth booster for Brassica plants, helping them thrive, but turn around and it’s trouble for root crops like potatoes. These microbes aren’t heroes or villains. They’re adaptable, ever-shifting in their role depending on the environment. It’s never black and white. It’s a game of balance.
And really, humans are no different. We build and destroy in equal measure. What saves one field might damage the next. What helps one gut might harm another. It’s not about sorting things into good or bad. It’s about learning the tempo of the dance. If anything, we’re here to listen, to observe, and to take our place as gardeners (not controllers) of this living world. It takes humility, and it takes work.
Symbiosis in Action
A visual story of the deep connections between sunlight, soil, plants, microbes, and the human body—reminding us that life thrives not in isolation, but through dynamic, living relationships.
Years ago, I studied with Dr. Elaine Ingham, staring down microscopes at soil samples, hunting for helpers and trying to flag the threats. But the deeper I looked, the more I realized those roles don’t hold steady. Soil isn’t filled with saints and sinners. It’s filled with players locked in an ongoing exchange. Microbes feed on each other, releasing nutrients for plants. It’s brutal, it’s efficient, and it’s a masterpiece. Cooperation here is born from conflict. Symbiosis doesn’t mean gentleness. It means edge. It means power balanced just enough to keep everything moving forward.
That microbial web still drives the show today. It builds soil. It feeds plants. It shapes entire ecosystems. In both our gardens and our guts, it’s microbes that hold the threads together. And when they do it right, everything thrives. That’s the lesson. Not purity, not perfection, but dynamic, creative collaboration. At Living Ground, we don’t just teach this, we practice it. We brew microbes with purpose, giving people tools to restore what’s broken. It’s not about control. It’s about relationship.
Science helps us navigate this complexity. We’re learning to support the allies, to steer the balance, to build strength in the systems around us and within us. Microbes don’t follow moral codes. They follow opportunity. They negotiate survival every second. Our job is to listen to their signals, to understand their language, and to support the systems they uphold.
H.G. Wells said it best in 1930: “Every symbiosis is, in its degree, underlain with hostility. Only through proper regulation and often elaborate adjustment can the state of mutual benefit be maintained.” That still holds. Even with all our knowledge, we fumble our partnerships. So how much more delicate are the negotiations playing out between beings without brains? Between bacteria and roots, or fungi and seeds?
Maybe the truth is, we’ve tried too hard to control the wildness. And maybe what we need now is to join it. Microbiomes, from soil to gut, are whispering reminders. Life isn’t all peace and harmony. It’s sweat. It’s tension. And it’s worth it. Because in that effort, in that work, something extraordinary can happen.
So let’s learn from the original collaborators. Let’s root ourselves in relationship. Let’s show up for the work, share the weight, and live in tune with a world that has never stopped dancing. That is the true heart of symbiosis. And it is brilliant.
