Founder Letter: Practicing the Presence, Dropping into the Field
Dear Rosies,
In this morning’s monthly community call, three themes wove through our circle. First, a shared sense of connection with the mystics across space and time. Some were reading Brother Lawrence on practicing the presence, others attuning to the work of artist Hilma af Klint. Someone was deep in Wilhelm Reich’s writings on energy. I’ve personally been sitting with Hildegard von Bingen—13th-century mystic, composer, herbalist, visionary, and a true creatrix. We were all, in our own ways, reaching for that thin place between worlds. The second theme was how do we know when we are taking the right next step in our lives, what is the felt sense in the body of a clear intuitive hit. From there, our third topic naturally arose: What is our relationship to contemplation, meditation and prayer?
Before we go any further, I want to offer a little preface—especially for those of you who lean more secular, or who carry a healthy dose of scientific skepticism. I love that part of you. I have it in me, too. I’m a person of inquiry, of data, of careful observation. I’ve spent a lot of my life inside that kind of knowing. That's the science behind our products, and also the neurobiology of many of the practices I teach.
And I’ve also spent a lot of time paying attention to state change—what helps us shift our consciousness, our chemistry, our emotional field, our perceptual lens. That moment when reactivity softens, and we drop into coherence or presence.
So when I use the word prayer, I’m also talking about nervous system regulation, conscious attunement, inner coherence and orientation toward the mystery. If the word prayer doesn’t land for you, that’s fine. Call it a tuning, or a remembering, or a quiet conversation with the invisible. The name doesn’t matter.
What matters is the gesture—the turning of attention, the softening of resistance, the willingness to listen to something larger than your small self. Some call it the quantum field. Some call it grace, or God, or no name at all. My experience in bringing this work forward is that most of us have felt that presence at some poing.
For a long time, I thought of prayer as either petition or praise. Something you say to ask for help, or to be a good person, or to curry favor, or to signal worthiness. “Please fix this.” “Please bless me.”
But when I began to understand prayer through the tantric lens, it became more about attuning and relationship to the whole. Now, prayer begins with the breath. With beauty. With sensation. With the turn of attention toward the mystery. Sometimes it's a formal: light a candle, say a mantra. But it's often in passing. Washing dishes, passing an ambulance, hearing animals at play, or seeing someone's frequency and noting their suffering. That’s everyday prayer, a way of life, not an activity.
Thomas Hübl speaks about this unfolding: from meditating twenty minutes a day, to ten minutes every hour, to ten seconds every minute—until meditation and life are no longer separate. Until the sacred becomes the background hum of everything. Until you are walking as a mystic in motion.
How this ties into intuition or channeling is through the depth of listening that comes in this state. We unify first and come present. Then we speak a clear intention. And then we listen.
Sometimes the intention is as simple as: "show me what I need to see", or, "help me remember what I already know".
Because often, we do know. But knowing can be inconvenient. It can disrupt the social contract, upset the family system, make us feel like we no longer belong to our tribe. So we pretend not to see. And then we live with the ache of dissonance.
For me, that ache has become intolerable. The more I practice, the more sensitive I become to any gap between my soul’s knowing and my outward reality. Prayer, then, becomes a recalibration. A return. A purification of the field.
And I’ve come to see that all prayer is answered—because it’s all frequency. Even the ones we’re not aware we’re praying. Our hidden fears. Our subconscious beliefs. Our quiet longings. The field listens to the whole signal, not just the words. It responds to the full vibration. So the question becomes: what am I really praying for, through my actions? Through the way I live?
It’s mystical work, yes. But it’s also deeply practical.
So I return again and again to: Show me what I need to see. Help me name the unconscious commitments I’m living by. Help me bring them to light so I can move with more clarity, more love, more alignment.
Because the field is alive. It’s intelligent. It’s in constant dialogue with us. The more honest we are, the more graceful that dialogue becomes.
One last thing. A simple trick: look for signs. One of the ways people stay connected to that frequency of wonder is through signs. For some people the sign is a number, or a totemic animal, or a song. For me it’s prisms. Anytime I see light refracted (on a glue dot, on the rim of a mug, in a rain droplet) I remember. I remember that light is always present, even when fragmented. I remember that I am part of something vaster. That we all are. That this material reality isn’t the whole story. It doesn’t matter what the sign is. Just that you have something that helps you notice and remember to stay in the much bigger conversation, to look at the world from the light and as the light.
The longer I live, the more the synchronicities, the wondrous, the unknown, the weird stand out as the real. You really can't make this stuff up that is coming at us. Let it become a field of play.
If you want to join our calls, the next one is August 24th.
With all my heart,
Christine
Christine Marie Mason
Founder, Rosebud Woman, Award Winning Intimate and Body Care
Host, The Rose Woman on Love and Liberation
The Nine Lives of Woman: Sensual, Sexual and Reproductive Stages from Birth to 100 Order in Print or on Kindle
@rosebudwoman
@christinemariemason
Subscribe: The Museletter
