When I journeyed to Assisi only to find its iconic Peace Bell silenced, I became determined to hear it ring again.
At one point a few years ago, I felt as if there was a hole in my heart. The news seemed to be only of war, and our political leaders only seemed ready to confront conflict with military madness. Longing for peace, I decided to go to Assisi (a short trip from my home in Italy) to ring the Peace Bell. I felt called to do this symbolic act of hope. Somebody, I thought, has to go and ring that Peace Bell!
So on a fall day, I drove along a quiet, hilly back road, full of curves and beautiful views of the Apennine mountains. The fields were dotted with olive groves and vineyards interlaced with woodlands and bed-and-breakfast inns, and the autumn light glowed soft and warm, unlike the torrid summer sun that pricks one’s skin.
Assisi, also known as the City of Peace, is the birthplace of Saint Francis. The town feels as if it is piled up upon itself, stone upon stone, shining like rose quartz and nestled into the hillside above the valley of Spoleto. As I approached the city that day, I first caught site of the Rocca Maggiore, a fortress dating to 1174. Soon afterward, the spectacular 13th-century Basilica of San Francesco came into view.
The Peace Bell is outside of the old walls of the city, not far from the basilica. It is supported by four granite columns, each representing a different religion: Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Buddhism. Designed by German artist Gerhard Kadletz, the bell is named Regina Pacis (Queen of Peace), and it is meant to unite the four religions to announce peace with one voice.
You can read more about my journey to ring the Peace Bell below. This story was published as a “Spiritual Journey” by Spirituality & Health Magazine (April/May 2025).
Feel free to share “Sacred Journeys: The Bell that Peals for Peace.” We sure do need more than ever to hear it ring!
I am thrilled to have my essay “Hoe to Harvest: Connecting Soil, Soul and Society” be selected as a one of the winners of the WATER Essay Contest. The task was to write a 650-word essay on a topic related to feminist work for social change that springs from spiritual commitments. The contest was in honor of Rosemary Ganley, a Peterborough, Ontario feminist activist and writer whose weekly columns in The Peterborough Examiner reach a wide audience.
I hope you enjoy reading my essay below and perhaps be inspired to plant a few spring seeds!
Catherine in her garden in Germany in 2014. These sunflowers planted themselves!
Hoe to Harvest: Connecting Soil, Soul and Society
It took me a long time and a good deal of sweat to understand it — just how much growing food extends beyond the garden. Not only does a garden feed us, but it also forms us – as persons and as a community. My husband and I have been growing much of what we eat for the past twenty-five years. We started out with a small plot and a few lettuce and tomato plants, but we now have enough land to keep us busy and well-fed.
Once you work in tandem with the soil and seasons, you learn to appreciate the spiritual lessons they hold. How fundamentally attached we are to this place called Earth. How much working the land can actually help us to become fully human. As Gandhi once said, “To forget how to dig the earth and tend the soil is to forget ourselves.”
While a garden provides us with fruits and vegetables, it also acts as a mirror for the soul. As we interact with hoe, shovel and watering can upon our Earth, the Earth is ready to teach us about ourselves.
There are days when I find myself tearing at weeds, only moments later to feel the fierce roots of long-buried anger and resentment clinging to my heart. Other days I am filled with joy, longing to spill seeds upon every patch of bare soil. By gardening we create a place where our inner and outer worlds can meet. And in this space, with time and nourishment, we are encouraged to move closer to ourselves and each other.
My neighbor once explained why gardening was the humblest of tasks. “Your head is always bowed and sometimes you have to go down on your knees.” Growing food is also a revolutionary act. Physically, the small farmer spends time hoeing, seeding, planting, composting, weeding, watering, and finally harvesting – not only produce, but also the seeds for next year’s crop. Meanwhile, spiritually the farmer is creating a new way of being. As Vandana Shiva said, “The power to feed ourselves is the power to free ourselves.”
Gardening also brings us in communion with our Earth and the universe. From the millions of microorganisms alive in the soil to the moon’s phases telling us what to plant and when. The German mystic and saint Hildegard von Bingen wrote: “Humankind is called to co-create. With nature’s help, humankind can set into creation all that is necessary and life-sustaining.” What better way to co-create alongside Nature’s diversity than to bite down on a cherry tomato or munch snap green peas grown with our own two hands?
Sharing a bountiful harvest is also a way to shift the economic paradigm from exploiting the Earth to sharing her abundance. Many times I have given away (and received in return) crates of plump tomatoes, fava beans, juicy apples and plums. Sharing harvested food cultivates friendship, gratitude, and peace.
Even without much land to sow, everyone can find a way to grow something to eat. Try planting herbs in flowerpots on the windowsill or grace your terrace or balcony with larger pots full of salads, beans, and tomatoes. Otherwise, commit to buy produce from local farmers, contribute time or energy to community gardens, or plant some perennial flowers (preferably edible!) somewhere … anywhere in your neighborhood.
Recently I planted a seed-thought that has bared fruit. At the charity where I volunteer, I suggested that we start growing food in the small plot next to where we distribute food and clothes. Together with a local cooperative that grows biological grains and legumes, charity volunteers and recipients have planted fruit trees this autumn and tilled the soil for spring planting.
The lessons gardening offers are simple. Every seed we plant holds a fruitful past and a tender promise. All we give to the soil feeds our future. And the small farmer is a humble, radical peacemaker.
While many of us are feeling overwhelmed by the conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza of late, there are actually 127 armed conflicts taking place in the world today. Most of these conflicts do not make the headlines. Some of them started recently, while others have lasted for more than 50 years.
So I thought it might be a good time to share this story about a spiritual experience that Roberto Assagioli had during wartime. He called it a shechinah and declared that it was one of the ‘high water marks’ of his spiritual life. You can read about his experience below in both English and Italian. My hope is that his story reminds us that the Higher Self exists in all of us, everywhere, at all times.
Note from Assagioli’s Archives:
Scehinah (da sciahèn, dimorare) / Scehinah è il “Dio immanente”, lo spirito divino che è nel mondo, “Dio che è in noi”. / Il Talmud, Pref. p. XVIII (Doc #17591, Istituto di Psicosintesi, Florence).
Scehinah (from sciahèn, dwell) / Scehinah is the “immanent God,” the divine spirit that is in the world, “God who is in us.” / The Talmud, Pref. p. XVIII