Let me take you down the rabbit hole for a moment. What if the reality around us is very different from what we believe it to be? What if our thoughts carry a power we cannot yet measure, and we are connected — through the vibrations of our inner lives — in ways we haven't been taught to recognise?

I am not a physicist. I am not a theologian, though I am Catholic, and I have found, over the years, that the questions I cannot shake are the ones that sit precisely at the border between those two disciplines — in that charged, uncertain territory where science and spirit stop talking past each other and start pointing at the same thing. This essay is an attempt to think through one of those questions. It is not a manifesto. It is not a sermon. It is an invitation to look at the world we are living in and ask whether we have fundamentally misunderstood our place in it.

The AC/DC tour manager once said that "God" is simply the cover we put over the mystery. I find that strangely liberating. So let's call it the Field. Not because I want to flatten something sacred into something clinical, but because the word reminds us of something we already know exists — the electromagnetic field, the gravitational field, forces that operate invisibly around us, carrying real information and producing real effects. You cannot see your Wi-Fi signal. You cannot feel it. But it is there, and it is working.

I. The Architecture of the Invisible

The Field

What if human consciousness works the same way? What if there exists something like a Noosphere — a layer of thought and feeling that surrounds and connects all of us — that is neither mystical fantasy nor metaphor, but an actual substrate of shared reality? Philosophers have named it. Physicists have gestured toward it. Ancient religions have described it in their own vocabularies for millennia. And yet, mainstream culture treats the idea as fringe, as wishful, as the territory of people who burn incense and read their horoscopes.

I want to suggest that this dismissal may be one of the most strategically convenient mistakes we have ever made.

The Field is neither good nor bad. It is a canvas. And what gets painted on it depends entirely on what we contribute to it — consciously or not.
— Christian Bertolini, GlamBon

In Christian tradition, we are told that we are made in the image of God — Imago Dei. I used to read that as a statement about form. We have two eyes, two hands, an upright posture, and so, presumably, does the divine. But I don't think that is what it means at all. If God is the Creator — the primordial generative intelligence — then being made in His image is a statement about function, not anatomy. It means we are, each of us, co-creators. It means our inner life has an outer consequence that we have barely begun to understand.

Faith that moves mountains. I used to take that as encouragement — a poetic way of saying that with enough determination, you can overcome great obstacles. But what if it is more literal than that? What if it is a technical description of what happens when a human mind aligns its intention perfectly with the Field?

7%
Reduction in violent crime linked to large group meditation events — the Maharishi Effect
72Hz
Frequency range associated with gratitude and love in HeartMath Institute studies
1%
Of a population practising coherent meditation may be enough to measurably shift the collective
II. The Ritual of Fear

How the Field Gets Hijacked

If the Field is a neutral canvas — a medium that amplifies whatever we pour into it — then the question becomes urgent: who is doing the pouring?

Look at the world honestly. There is real evil in it. Not the abstract philosophical kind — the kind that shows up in the ledgers of arms dealers, in the architecture of systems designed to keep billions in scarcity so that a few thousand can accumulate power beyond imagination. I am not a conspiracy theorist. I am a person who reads the news and notices that it is very, very difficult to come away from it feeling anything other than afraid, small, and powerless. That is not an accident.

In spiritualism, a "medium" is an entity that communicates between worlds. Our media — the news channels, the social feeds, the algorithmically curated scroll — functions as a medium in exactly this sense. It carries messages between the powerful and the many. And the message, relentlessly, is fear. Scarcity. Division. The enemy lives in a different neighbourhood, votes for a different party, prays to a slightly different version of the same God.

We are tribal by nature — but tribalism, today, is a technology. A deliberately maintained condition. The question is who benefits from keeping us there.
— Christian Bertolini, GlamBon

Biologically, fear keeps us in a state of survival. High cortisol. Low empathy. Tunnel vision. In this state, we make poor decisions, we distrust our neighbours, and we are exquisitely easy to manipulate. We buy things we don't need to feel safe. We vote for strongmen because they promise certainty. We scroll and scroll and scroll, looking for the threat we've been told is just around the corner.

And here is where the Field becomes relevant. If consciousness contributes to a shared substrate, then millions of humans held in a sustained state of fear are not merely suffering individually. They are — together, unintentionally — broadcasting something into the Field. They are collectively painting the canvas in precisely the colours that serve the interests of those who profit from their fear.

It is, as I said, a self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you feel desperate, the more the world around you organises itself to confirm that desperation. Not through magic. Through the very ordinary mechanics of what we notice, what we create, what we tolerate, what we vote for, what we teach our children.

Interactive
The Reality Mirror
Seven questions to reveal which frequency you're currently operating on
Your progress
Question 01 / 07
When you wake up in the morning, what is the first thing you reach for?
AYour phone — to check news, messages, or social media
BA moment of stillness — breathing, gratitude, or just listening to the morning
CCoffee, music, or something that anchors you before the day takes over
DYou set an intention the night before, so you already know what matters today
Question 02 / 07
When you encounter someone with strongly opposing views, your instinctive internal response is:
AImmediate irritation or a need to correct them
BGenuine curiosity about how they arrived at their position
CDiscomfort but a willingness to listen
DWithdrawal — you find it easier to avoid the conversation entirely
Question 03 / 07
How would you honestly describe your relationship with the news?
AI consume it constantly — I feel anxious if I fall behind
BI check in once or twice a day, deliberately, then close the tab
CI know I should consume less, but I find it hard to stop
DI've largely stepped back from mainstream news and rely on curated, long-form sources
Question 04 / 07
When something goes wrong in your life, your dominant emotional response tends to be:
AThis always happens to me — a sense of being personally targeted by misfortune
BFrustration, then a gradual recalibration toward what can be done
CEquanimity — you've learned that difficulty is data, not punishment
DIt varies wildly — some days you're resilient, other days you spiral
Question 05 / 07
When you create something — a meal, a message, a project, anything — what is the feeling that most often drives it?
AObligation or the fear of falling short
BGenuine pleasure in the act of making — the outcome matters less than the process
CA desire to be seen or validated
DLove — for the people it's for, or for the craft itself
Question 06 / 07
How do you feel about the concept of silence — of simply sitting with nothing, no input, no task?
ADeeply uncomfortable — it makes you anxious
BYou want to access it more but life keeps filling the gaps
CYou protect it — it's when you hear yourself most clearly
DYou haven't really thought about it — silence just doesn't happen
Question 07 / 07
If you could describe the dominant emotion colouring your inner life right now — in this season of your life — what would it be?
AAnxiety, overwhelm, or a persistent low-grade dread
BA restless searching — purposeful but not yet settled
CGratitude, presence, and a quiet confidence in the direction you're moving
DNumbness — you're functioning, but the signal feels weak
Your current frequency
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Deep FearSovereign Love
Practices to try
    III. The Subversive Act

    Why Love Is the Most Radical Thing Left

    We have been taught to think of love as a feeling — something that happens to us, that we fall into, that we are lucky enough to find. But love, in the sense I am exploring here, is something closer to a frequency. It is a state of orientation. A quality of attention. And in a world systematically organised to produce its opposite, choosing to remain in it is not soft. It is not passive. It is the most demanding and dangerous act of resistance available to us.

    I never understood, for most of my life, the monastic impulse. Why would someone retreat from the world to sit on a mountain and pray? It seemed like the ultimate abdication — a turning away from reality at precisely the moment when reality most needed people of good will to engage with it. I think I was wrong.

    The studies on group meditation — particularly the Maharishi Effect, which documented measurable reductions in violent crime during periods of large coherent group practice — suggest something remarkable. That the monks on the mountain are not hiding. They are transmitting. They are signal towers, keeping a frequency alive that the noise of the world is trying to drown out.

    You don't have to go to a mountain. But you do have to decide — deliberately, daily — what you are broadcasting into the Field.
    — Christian Bertolini, GlamBon

    This is what I mean by the frequency of sovereignty. Not sovereignty in the political sense — not an assertion of rights or a demand for autonomy. Sovereignty in the original sense: the condition of being the highest authority over your own inner territory. The noise wants your attention. The fear wants your energy. Every scroll, every outrage cycle, every manufactured crisis is a request — politely phrased as information — for you to hand over the one resource that actually matters.

    IV. Reclaiming the Dial

    A Practical Metaphysics

    I want to be careful here not to drift into the territory of toxic positivity — the Instagram spirituality that tells you to simply vibrate higher while the world burns. That is not what I am describing. Acknowledging that the world contains real evil, real suffering, and real injustice is not fear. It is clarity. What I am describing is the difference between seeing clearly and being consumed. Between knowing the darkness exists and choosing to live inside it.

    Curate what enters you

    The media is a medium. If you would not invite a stranger into your home to narrate an unbroken stream of catastrophe into your ear for six hours, you should consider what it means to carry that stranger in your pocket and invite them in every time you unlock your phone. This is not about ignorance. It is about the difference between being informed and being marinated.

    Understand what you are doing when you think

    Your thoughts are not private events. They shape your body through your neurochemistry. They shape your relationships through the energy you bring to them. And if there is a Field — and I believe there is, even if we lack the instruments to map it precisely — they contribute to something larger than yourself. This is not a burden. It is an invitation. You have more power than you have been allowed to believe.

    Protect your capacity for stillness

    The noise is not an accident. The scroll is not designed to relax you — it is designed to keep you just stimulated enough that you never drop into the frequency where you hear yourself think. Stillness is not emptiness. It is the condition under which the signal becomes audible. This is what meditation does, at its most essential: it removes the static so you can find the station.

    Create — always create

    Destruction is easy. It requires no imagination, no love, no sustained attention. Creation — cooking a meal with care, writing something true, building something useful, raising a child with intention — is the most direct expression of the divine principle I know. When we are made in the image of the Creator, this is what it looks like in practice. Destruction comes from scarcity. Creation comes from love. One confirms the Field of fear. The other begins to shift it.

    The most subversive thing you can do, in a world organised around your despair, is to refuse to despair. Not through denial. Through the disciplined, daily practice of orienting toward what is good.
    — Christian Bertolini, GlamBon

    I do not know if this is true in the way that the laws of thermodynamics are true. I believe it is true in the way that the best things I know are true — partially, provisionally, and with enough force that acting as if it were true makes life larger and better and more generous than acting as if it were not.

    We are, each of us, tuning instruments. The question is not whether we are broadcasting — we are always broadcasting. The question is what we choose to transmit, once we understand that the choice is ours to make.

    Questions Worth Asking
    The Field is a working term for what some call collective consciousness — an invisible substrate connecting human minds, analogous to the electromagnetic field that carries Wi-Fi signals. It has been described in various traditions as the Noosphere, the morphic field, or simply as God. The label matters less than the idea it gestures toward: that individual consciousness may not be as separate or contained as we assume.
    A series of studies suggesting that when roughly 1% of a population practises transcendental meditation together, measurable reductions in crime and social conflict occur in the surrounding area — implying that individual consciousness can influence collective reality. The studies remain contested, but the pattern has been observed in multiple independent replications.
    Fear-based thinking keeps humans in a biological survival state — high cortisol, low empathy, tribal thinking. If consciousness contributes to a shared field, sustained fear among millions effectively 'tunes' that field toward scarcity and conflict, making those states more likely to manifest — not through mystical causation, but through the perfectly ordinary mechanisms of what fearful people choose, vote for, tolerate, and create.
    Rather than a physical resemblance, this article interprets the Imago Dei as a statement of creative power — that humans, like the divine, have the capacity to generate reality through intention, thought, and love. If God is the Creator, then being made in that image means we are co-creators, and our inner orientation has consequences that extend beyond ourselves.
    Curating your media inputs, practising regular stillness or meditation, choosing creation over consumption, and consciously orienting toward love and empathy are all practical frequency-shifting practices described in this article. None of them require belief in any particular metaphysical framework — they are useful regardless of whether the Field exists, because they make the individual who practises them more clear-headed, more generous, and more capable of contributing something good.
    Christian Bertolini
    Christian Bertolini
    Contributor · Founder, ProntoID

    Christian Bertolini is an entrepreneur and the founder of ProntoID, a digital identity and credential verification platform. With a background spanning engineering, media production, and the liberal arts, he contributes opinion and culture essays to GlamBon. He can be found on LinkedIn.