What do crystals, fossils, stunning sunsets, black magic, demons and insanity have in common?
Our drive to Colorado does.
It started as a simple trip — one week or so in Delta,Co., including driving time because we were scheduled to present at a Sasquatch conference in Beaver, Wa. immediately on our return. Larry and I had found a piece of land in Colorado that was stunning: acres of desert mesa beauty covered in selenite crystals, ancient fossils, and wide open sky. But to make it ours, we stepped into something else entirely.
The land we originally purchased was not empty. It is 40 acres, half of which when looked upon resembles a moonscape pristine and majestic alluring and entrancing, yet look the other direction, and it was sprinkled in abandoned squatters encampments — people living in tents, and improvised shacks, surrounded by hills of garbage, abandoned vehicles, and the unmistakable residue of drugs and dark practices. It wasn’t just a physical mess. The entire area felt thick, like a psychic swamp.
Yet, the power and the message from the land was very clear: clean me.
This started a line of questions and inquiries for Larry and me because it did not make much sense for our lives. Yes, the whole thing came about because we bought land and wanted to hold in person events there — yet the view was massively and negatively impacted by the encampments, not exactly the ideal backdrop for a gathering.
We wondered how to fence off or hide the view of the encampments — maybe trees, or a very big fence — so our guests would not be subjected to the negative view. Little did we realize then that the negativity was not just in the view; the people there were drug addicts and black magic practitioners. It was a classic case of buying a slice of paradise then finding out your neighbors are 100% incompatible with your enjoyment of that paradise. Something not unlike the present split in reality we are cocreating this very moment more broadly. Some things are simply incompatible with each other. Period.
But that realization came some time later.
Some months ago, one of our neighbors told us that the parcel covered in black magic and detritus was for sale through a foreclosure sale. Larry and I looked at our finances and bought it. After the sheriff’s sale, we believed the previous owners and their guests would become compelled to leave and we would have clean, clear land with some clean up perhaps to conduct.
Nope. They dug in, and we had to spend months and thousands of dollars in litigation to clear them out. Apparently, landowners in Colorado have a huge burden and many hoops to clearing their land from individuals with any claim whatsoever to being present. Once cleared, trespassing is very strongly enforced with very serious consequences, but give, as in give permission at any point, even in a limited manner, and that can quickly be construed as permission to inhabit which then requires a long process to rescind.
As we arrived there for our week visit, I remember standing there the first day, watching the wind shimmer through the crystals on the ground while the smell of decay and burnt plastic rose from piles of trash. Light and shadow, beauty and horror, coexisting within the same few acres of land. I thought it would be a quick cleanup because the eviction process was set and it was just a matter of the sheriff coming over and getting the squatters to leave the land.
I was wrong.
The Land of Paradox
There’s something surreal about seeing selenite glinting in the sunlight beside syringes and blackened fire pits. The land itself seemed to whisper — “Clean me.” It was both sacred and deep. Ancient. Yet, the surface was anything but.
Larry and I sat down to discuss why Gaia — the land and the human collective — wanted it cleaned. After all, what does it matter to Gaia if those people and garbage stay there? After a million years, nothing would be left of them. A million years ago everything there was blown to smithereens by the largest volcanic eruption on the continent creating the flat topped mesa 100’s of square miles in size, which is just the base of this gigantic mountain that is no more. Another million years ago the entirety was submerged at the bottom of an ocean of water. So a few people? What’s the biggie, besides it was nasty to experience in our present, a dark to our light. But the message came in stronger every day: no one was allowed to stay, and no garbage was allowed to stay either.
We visited the sheriff’s office to find out what we were supposed to do, and they were very clear that for the process to be legal, we had to be present. Physically stay and be there for the entire process to be legal and complete. Otherwise, it would be cancelled and would need to begin over again from the beginning.
Oops… We might not make our sasquatch event commitment…
The eviction date was not the one stated in the judgment. We had to wait two days after that date, then get a writ for the sheriff, who would then post eviction notices, and after ten more days, go to the land to evict them. After that, the people would get another day to get all their stuff out.
Not only that, but the eviction process itself was complex. It required us to go into all the structures where people were living — RVs, mobile homes, and so on — and remove absolutely everything that was not nailed to the ground, floor, or ceiling… by hand, and place it in an area they could later access
Yup, we were told we had to move all the items by hand. There were deadlines, county notices, and an eviction process already in motion. On paper, it looked straightforward. In reality, what those people had in their living accommodations was the stuff of nightmares. The rooms were filled from floor to ceiling with garbage, scrap metal, dirty laundry and dishes, and so much more — including drug needles and black magic sigils on the floors, walls, and ceilings.
And then came the energy of resistance. The people living there didn’t want to leave. They begged, lied, cast spells, called the sheriff, their own lawyers, and called upon spirits — sometimes all in the same day. They wept and they cursed. It wasn’t just about losing a camp; it was about a dark collective trying to hold on to territory, both physical and energetic.
At night, I could feel the field pulsing — fear, anger, confusion, war. Each morning, I’d wake determined to face it again, and each night, I’d fall into bed emotionally drained, my nervous system fried.
The Human Vessel of Darkness
It’s easy to think of “squatters” as a faceless problem. But once you meet them, you realize they’re human vessels of darkness — fragments of the collective human psyche acting out low-frequency patterns: aggression, anger, suffering, indulgence, righteousness. Each one carried archetypes: the lost healer, the trickster, the wanderer, the wounded child, the demon, the mage.
Some were kind, some dangerous, some clearly caught in deep delusion. A few believed the land was “theirs by divine right.” Others just wanted to stick it to the man. I couldn’t help but feel pity for their choices — but pity alone wasn’t enough.
One of the sheriff’s deputies told us to be careful — that these people had months to get organized and leave, and they hadn’t. They would try to get us to let them stay longer, but if we agreed, the entire legal process we had gone through would be invalidated.
For most lightworkers, the hardest part is learning where compassion ends and enabling begins. Sometimes love wears the face of firmness. Saying “no” to darkness is not a rejection of humanity — it’s a kindness and an affirmation of truth.
This was one of the most important things to keep in mind for this trip: staying loving without becoming naïve, staying clear without becoming aggressive or overwhelmed.
Still, leading up to the eviction date, our bodies took a toll — both emotionally and physically.
And then, our allies rallied around us.
Yes — four of our Driving to the Rez panelists, plus our friend Teo, traveled over a thousand miles to help us clean not just the new land, but also the previous property, which still had garbage and negative energies from the previous year when we had purchased it.
They arrived in two RVs, with their pet dogs, garbage bags, gloves, and other equipment to get the job done. And did they ever!
They arrived a few days before the eviction date and got to work. We also had an amazing time hunting for desert-grown selenite crystals, fossils, agates, jasper, and petrified wood.
At night, we gathered to skywatch in the desert and saw multiple planes, satellites, and yes — UFOs!
The Eviction Day Arrived
The sheriff’s deputies arrived on time, calm and professional. The county representatives were kind, responsive, and genuinely concerned. The neighbors offered tools, advice, and hands.
It was as if the universe had organized a living example of collective light-in-action. Where I expected bureaucracy, I found compassion. Where I expected to be overwhelmed, I found help.
It reminded me that humanity is not lost. The system — often criticized for its lack of empathy — became, in this case, a framework through which order, safety, and clarity could flow.
It wasn’t “us versus them.” It was all of us bringing a corner of reality back into coherence.
Larry and I met the sheriff’s deputies at the road and decided to evict the trailers scattered throughout the land first. As it happened, the people had already left, but they had left their trailers and a lot of items inside them. We left our helpers back at our other parcel until we were sure those people were gone; they had become aggressive in previous days, and we didn’t want to risk anyone’s safety.
We had employed a moving company that specialized in evictions. They said they would empty the buildings, place everything on the doorway, and then we had to move it away to a designated area where the squatters then had 24 hours to collect it.
Two big, strong men arrived to empty the trailers and buildings, and Larry got to work with them.
Then it was time for the big mobile homes. The sheriff told the people to leave the building, and they did so without a fuss. We called our friends, and they came over to start getting everything from the doorway out into the land where the squatters could then pick through it and take whatever they wanted. For 24 hours, all that stuff was still theirs.
It took about eight hours non-stop to remove all the items from the two mobile homes. The residents were hoarders — like the worst nightmare show on TV, but worse. Looking back, if our friends had not come, we would have taken several days to finish the job.
All I could do was watch and hold space, as before we left for Colorado I had broken my ankle and was not able to move much or stand on it.
The Weight of Negativity
Despite all the help, the experience took a toll. The level of emotional and mental pressure was something I hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just the logistics; it was the energetic density. The constant whining, as the adults played victims and painted us as aggressors, was exhausting.
There was a young boy, around fifteen years old, who lived in that mess. Quite honestly, he was the most positive and helpful of the entire group.
My emotional body felt inflamed and overstretched. My mental field would spin with intrusive thoughts and worries that weren’t ours. At times I’d stare at the situation, wondering how so much darkness could exist in one place.
One of the pieces of guidance I had received before eviction day was to realize that this was not about those people. They chose to stay where they didn’t belong and to live in that type of situation. Gaia and the human collective did not want them there, and we were facilitating their exit. They will be fine and continue with their choices no matter where they go.
Remember, this is our land now. As a matter of fact, they went to live at a much larger property with others who have the same lifestyle. We know this because, in the following week, we helped them take a lot of their stuff to the new land. They were not unhappy. On the contrary.
It reminded me that in the light paradigm, darkness is literally not allowed to exist. Cruelty, addiction, co-dependent behavior, and black magic — all these things are not allowed to exist in our lives. Therefore, as we now owned the land, all those energies, and the people who carried them, had to leave.
But why? I still wondered.
Well, if you know my work, you’ll know about the connection between power and land — and perhaps the Mapuche concept of the Rewe (pronounced “ewe,” though not spelled that way).
I asked Gaia, why is it so important to own this land in Colorado and to clean it? We have our home in Washington State, and we have the Shamanashack and our collective land at Fossil Beach — so what is significant about the properties in Colorado?
The answer came — fascinating, but not yet fully understood. The answer was: “The land in Colorado is a Rewe reservoir.”
A reservoir of power? And if so, how do we access it?
Well, the people there were using it for darkness. The Rewe was not fully activated, as no one knew how to do it — which was a good thing.
So that was the reason for the removal of the people and the garbage that was encrusted on the land.
It was not until everyone left and removed their claims that I pulled a couple of cards to get guidance on the land, and two things happened. One of them was that the power came out from inside the land and rose through my spine into the world — to take form.
Just a note here: the sentence “The light inside rises and becomes form” will be fully explained in my next class, The Source Code of Manifestation: Unlocking the Quantum Core of Creation, which you can pre-orde here: “The Source Code of Manifestation”
Sanity in the Midst of Insanity
To stay sane, I had to practice extreme diligence. Every day began with grounding, breathing, and re-centering in presence. I’d remind myself: observe, don’t absorb.
When fear, in the shape of stress, tried to creep in, I observed it as an external weather system. When exhaustion hit, I found small moments of beauty — the fossil of a shell glinting from the dirt, the way the setting sun turned the desert gold and purple, the laughter of a friend helping load the truck.
The secret wasn’t escaping the insanity. It was standing as the still point within it. Each day became an exercise in applied awareness — all the while allowing the inner light to rise and become form.
What I understood is that true mastery is not theory or information only. We need to apply it for it to help — to use it in the mud, under pressure, surrounded by chaos, when the only thing holding us together is our choice to stay conscious and respond instead of react.
The Turning Point
When the final eviction was over, I didn’t feel triumphant. I felt relief — and a strange sadness. That evening, a deep silence settled over the land. For the first time, I could hear the desert breathe again. Not just that, but I could feel myself and the desert breathing together.
Our friends left after the squatters moved on. It still took a few extra days for the garbage to be hauled away, and beneath it all, the land revealed herself: ancient, raw, luminous. The selenite caught the morning light like tiny galaxies embedded in stone.
A one-week trip had turned into a month-long marathon. The journey wasn’t about property or cleanup — it was about embodiment, boundaries, and the split within consciousness. The human collective, represented by the county, the sheriff, the neighbors, and our small team, had come together to restore coherence.
It was proof that light doesn’t fight darkness — it simply holds a strong presence and boundaries for darkness to dissolve and move on. We were not friends, not acquaintances not cocreators with them, we were not enemies, conquerors, warriors pitted against each other, we were the light and only light.
The Teaching from the Land
Looking back, the land was the real teacher. The selenite — a stone of clarity, healing, and cleansing — wasn’t just in the soil. It was in the experience. The fossils whispered of time, endurance, and the slow patience of existence.
The entire ordeal mirrored humanity’s current split: ancient wisdom buried under layers of distortion, now rising to the surface to be seen and healed.
The most impinging realization for me was how much stress the human body and mind can endure when we forget to stay centered — and how quickly peace returns when we do.
In the end, sacredness wasn’t found in the crystals or fossils, but in the discipline of staying clear and kind when the world around us spins in chaos and tries to engage us in victim–aggressor blame and fear.
The land wanted us to stay, and the work was not done yet. There were still piles of garbage and structures on the land that needed to be dealt with, but Larry and I put our foot down and drove home. Surprisingly, our trips usually take twice as long as the GPS tells us, but this time, instead of three days, it only took two.
Who stayed behind finishing the cleaning of the land, garbage collection, and more was our friend and neighbor Jay. He sent us a video yesterday and we could not believe the change. All that is left are the mobile homes and a shed — nothing salvageable but things the squatters want back, and if they are able to figure out a way to get them off the land, we will work with them to do it.
And yes — there’s so much more to this story. The adventure, the people, the strange synchronicities, and the laughter that kept us human through it all. Even three guys on electric bikes going up and down adobe hills! Teo fell a few times, but it didn’t stop him.
To hear the full story from Larry’s and my perspective and to find out what an adobe hill is, listen to this week’s episode of Driving to the Rez.
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To listen to our tribe’s journey of over 1000 miles to help us, click here.
The discussion doesn’t stop here - listen to the full podcast episode for unfiltered insights from Inelia and our panelists.
