Land and Power - Mystical Secrets Revealed

The Woo topic for this month is how our inner ability to manifest and do—in other words, our “power”—is influenced by the ground we own. Land ownership has mystical consequences. In this essay, I’m going to delve deeper into what these consequences are and how we can all tap into them.

I’ve spoken about the link between a person’s power and the land they own a few times now. I have an article and a podcast we released not that long ago in which I explore this topic in a general way. I also go into some detail on the relationship between a person and their land in the class “Buying and Selling Real Estate – 11 Energy Hacks Revealed.” But the nitty-gritty of the mystical aspects of this relationship are not really explored in depth there, as that class is mostly concerned with the buying and selling of property.

In this essay, I’m going to explore the deeper—and secret—mystical dynamics inherent in owning land, which explain why monarchs, billionaire individuals, certain companies, and religions are obsessed with land ownership. I can tell you right now that it’s not just about the real estate’s monetary value.

When a person owns land, they become more able to do things. That’s basically what it comes down to: they become more powerful. But it’s not as cut and dry as simply buying land. The person needs to connect to it and spend time on it for the relationship of power between the person and the land to be activated. I’ll define what I mean by “power,” and what I mean by “land,” then continue with the history and the shroud of secrecy surrounding this topic.

Power: For this essay, the definition of “power” is the ability to do. In the light/dark paradigm in which we live—and which is currently splitting—the dominant interpretation of power has meant “power over others.” That’s translated into military prowess, conquering of land, and ruling over others. In the “light” paradigm, which we are co-creating, power is literally the ability to do—and what we do is life-affirming, interesting, exploratory, and broadens our minds, awareness, and capacity to act.

Land: The solid, earth part of the planet, and in this essay, it refers to defined boundaries that a person can claim to own within our societal constructs. Land ownership is convoluted in red tape and laws. However, we can use these systems to claim a parcel (no matter the size) and become responsible for it above all others. The exploration of what it means to “own land” would be an essay of its own so for now, I’d simply like to dispel two important myths around land ownership:

1. If you have a mortgage on the land, the land does not belong to the lender. You placed your land as collateral for the loan.

2. If you rent a property, that land is not yours. You can use it, but the power belongs to the owner.

First of all, I’ll share a bit of history around this topic and how it came into my awareness.

As a young child, I was brought up by a couple who came from opposite ends of the social spectrum. My mother was part gypsy, part Mapuche, and part working class. My father, on the other hand, was a direct descendant of the ruling class of Spain. His family were landowners and held positions of authority.

My father’s family held large areas of land in Chile. Both his mother and father had property in their names. His mother’s family held large farms, while his father held city property, mines, and a ranch. The management and ownership of land were often discussed at my father’s family dinners. There were belief systems around land ownership that were regularly shared with us, the children. One was that land without workers was useless. This belief came directly from the idea that land must be exploited in some way. Whether by mining minerals, or growing food or animals, land had to give the owner wealth.

There was, however, another line of energy that would sometimes be alluded to—the idea that landowners had the power to create what they wanted. When I inquired about this, I received no explanation. I remember another young family member speculating that it had to do with the fact that landowners had money, and money gave them the ability to get what they wanted.

A story was told about my great-grandfather, however, that opened a different line of inquiry—one that eventually flowed into my awareness through my mother’s Mapuche lineage too, which one of her sisters fully immersed herself in.

This is the information: When a person owns land, they can create a link into physical reality that amplifies their personal frequency. That frequency becomes filled with the power to do. In Mapuche culture, this is explored through something called Rewe (sometimes pronounced “Ewe”). There is no official spelling for the word, as the Mapuche don’t use written language.

Rewe is essentially the power of the Machi. The Machi is the wisdom keeper and spiritual leader of the Mapuche tribes. It’s said that once a Machi establishes a Rewe (home/place of power/connection with Earth), they cannot leave. Not only does the Rewe empower them to do their magical work. This connection between the Machi and his or her land is so powerful that they believe that if they leave their Rewe for more than six months, the Machi will die.

When I was in my 30s, my then-husband and I traveled to southern Chile to visit land we were considering buying. It belonged to a couple: the man was Chilean, and the woman was Mapuche. The land was in her name, and, following her traditional ways, she needed us to meet the Machi of her tribe and receive her blessing before she would sell it to us. Naturally, we also wanted to see the land to determine if it was what we were looking for.

Long story short: I spent a few hours with the Machi, who demonstrated that the Rewe was not theoretical or mythical. She activated that power while I was on her land, and everything changed. It was an extraordinary experience, which I’ve spoken about in some of my classes.

What she did was create literal sparks of light that rose from the soil, plants, trees, and rocks on her land. I gasped and smiled. She smiled back and nodded. At that moment, my then-husband screamed and ran away. He was not a good person. And, according to the Machi, he was not a person at all. She said he was not human.

The Mapuche are still fighting for the right to live on their ancestral lands. And the dynamic between the power a Machi can harness—opposed to the vast corporations and government forces taking that land away—was a puzzle for me.

It remains puzzling until one realizes that the entities taking Mapuche land are empowered by much more land than the Mapuche possess. More land than we can imagine. It’s also no secret that when a colonizing force enters a land, one of their first targets are the wisdom keepers of the tribe. By severing the passage of wisdom—and in the case of Machi, not only killing or exiling them from their land but also indoctrinating them with Catholicism or other Western religions—they lose their connection to the land and, by extension, the power of creation.

It was interesting to me, when I lived in England, that the Queen had to visit her colonies once a year or so. In other words, she had to physically travel to the lands in her name.

Her son, the current King, does the same.

Owning land, by itself, does not connect a person or organization to the power held by that land. They must physically connect with the land regularly. If they don’t, their connection to its power dissipates.

So how does the connection empower a person? What are the mechanics behind it?

Interestingly enough, living on the land that a person owns doesn’t automatically make someone more powerful. A person can block the power this connection brings—or be open to it. Some of the factors involved in this connection are obvious; others are more subtle.

For example, the belief that “the land belongs to the mortgage lender” will sever the connection between the person and the land. Another example is fear. A person might be afraid of losing the land and therefore never fully connect with it. They might fear being trapped on it. Or they might fear the power that connection could bring.

Fear is the greatest tool of disempowerment the dark side of the light/dark paradigm has over the population. Fear is insidious. It renders people impotent toward their so-called “fate.”

Sometimes fear is hard to recognize and gets mislabeled as “stress.”

And sometimes the person simply does not connect with the land, period.

Another belief being pushed by the dark side is that people are better off not owning land. That land ownership is useless, a drain on resources, and a trap. That it goes against the Zen state of existence.

People—especially the young—are being encouraged to rent or lease rather than own. The result? They become increasingly alienated from the Earth and will never be able to establish a center of power where they can influence the physical reality of our species.

Years ago, a major PR campaign announced that Elon Musk was selling all his homes and planned to “own no house.” Whether he sold other properties apart from houses, I don’t know—but it’s highly unlikely. Later, he began buying large mansions for his children and their mothers. Those purchases weren’t widely publicized. Most people still believe he lives on someone else’ couch.

Once a person buys land and connects with it, they might be able to see the effects of land ownership on their manifestation ability right away. Others see the connection in those around them. And some people don’t see it at all.

Take the Makah Reservation, for example. Many could argue that the Makah have lived on that land for thousands of years and should therefore be extremely powerful, able to manifest anything at any time. 

A person might interpret this to mean that the connection between people and land does nothing to empower the people on the land.

However, if we do a bit of research, we find out that not so long ago the link between the Makah people and their land was severed. The land was sold—or given—to a private company called “the Federal Government” for very little in exchange. Now, the Makah lease their land from that company. 

By placing a private company as the owner of the land and reducing the Makah to leaseholders, the power that once came from the land has been severed. Although the Makah people have lived there for millennia, the land’s power is gone from them. The tribe is now disempowered.

The Makah ceded title to 300,000 acres of tribal land to the U.S. In 1859. Prior to that time, the Makah were one of the most powerful tribes in the area, holding a land position much like Gibraltar, at the head of the point of land where massive amounts of trade happened. They were known as expert whalers with barrels and barrels of oil, and a bounty of salmon and halibut. The true riches for the era.

But if you visit the reservation now you will see that the Makah are not as empowered a people as they once were. They do not control, instead they ‘co-manage’ with final authority resting with the conqueror, whom they celebrate each year with a raising of the flag of the conquering nation during Makah Days.

Some individual members have become powerfully capable and have used a good portion of their riches acquiring the land once lost in the ceding of the territory.  Owning this land, rather than leasing or beneficiary of a trust, building individual power. In some ways, supercharged by the past generational title to the land that's now reclaimed.  This applies to Larry and I as the lands we hold are also within the territory of our tribe. 

Larry and I own land. We co-own nearly 50 acres of beachside land with other WalkWithMeNow.com members. That land is extraordinary. If the group links to it consciously, it could become a powerful manifesting force. As far as I know, this hasn’t been explored by the group.

Larry and I also own 80 acres of arid desert land in Colorado which once belonged to the Parianuche which is one of the bands that comprised the Southern Ute Tribe. The Ute people, particularly the Parianuche (elk people) and Tabeguache (people of Sun Mountain), had a long presence in the Delta County area where our land is, migrating seasonally for hunting and gathering. The Parianuche, along with other Ute bands like the Yamparika, Tabeguache, Muhgruhtahveeach, Kapota, Muache, and Weminuche, were involved in conflict with the United States during the Ute Wars, and consequently also ceded a vast amount of territory to the US.  This land is generationally interesting for us potentially related to episode 1 of our podcast, Driving to the Rez’, where Larry describes a past life remembering of three flying turtles passing in front of him and his hunting party at the edge of the Black Canyon, which is near our land.

We also own 12 acres of lush forest in Washington State, land once held as Makah territory.

When we got together, we owned nothing. In fact, Larry was convinced that owning land was impossible—how could someone own a piece of Gaia?

Even so, with just a partial connection to our land, our manifestation ability has increased.

For example: I said I wanted our access road to be cleared. Every year, the forest farm that owns it lets blackberry vines and tree branches overgrow onto the road, scratching cars and making visits difficult. Months ago, I said the first step to manifesting a nice car—like a Jaguar—was to have a driveway that wouldn’t scratch it. I was prepared to employ some workers to cut the growth back and clear the road. But Larry kept saying he would do it. Two years later, it has been getting worse and worse.

There’s also a sinkhole problem on the road. Last year, a representative from the forest farm said they were planning to thin their trees. We chatted, and I gave him my number so he could notify me when workers were coming so that I could put our guard dogs away. I also asked about the sinkhole. He said he’d inquire. Days later, he texted that they’d added the fixing of the sinkhole to their summer 2025 schedule.

Earlier this spring, the sinkhole worsened. I texted again and asked if they could move up the timeline. He said he’d ask.

This week, he texted that they were marking the road for maintenance—not to fix the sinkhole, but to mow the blackberry bushes and cut back the overgrowth. I hadn’t even asked for that work; I’d simply mentioned it to myself as a prerequisite to manifesting a nice car. A few days earlier, we’d acquired a larger truck to reach our Colorado land—and I’d cringed as it was scratched by the branches. I remember driving up the access road and wondering how come we had purchased a nice truck but my prerequisite that the branches and blackberry bushes before we got something nice had not been met.

And, looking at it now, I can see that the prerequisite was met, just in the wrong order. And maybe a new truck is a prerequisite to a nice car. This story is not yet finished, I don’t think.

Let me explain why this is relevant.

These manifestations are related to the environment. To the physical world around us.

Another example I often share in my classes happened years ago in Rancagua, Chile. At the time, I lived with my three young kids and first husband on city property owned by my aunt. I personally didn’t own that house but I did own Rancho Blanco, our family ranch ten minutes away by the Cachapoal River. I spent a lot of time on that ranch, tending to the fruit grove and vines. Although the land didn’t want me there (a story for another time), it belonged to me.

Two manifestations came from the power of the connection between me and the ranch —one in the city, one at the ranch itself.

In the city: I wanted my kids and I to join a Taekwondo dojo. I found one I liked, but it was across town. Getting there was going to be hard. I sighed and thought, “if the dojo was next door, I’d totally join it.”

A week later, a black belt from that dojo knocked on my door. They had moved—to a building one block away.

I joined immediately. My kids and I trained with that sensei for the rest of our time in Chile. A month after we moved to Europe, an apprentice emailed to say the neighbors had complained, and the dojo moved again—to the other side of the city.

Coincidence? Not even the apprentice thought so.

On the ranch: I couldn’t find my irrigation rights in the documentation I inherited after buying the ranch from my father and siblings. So I visited the water authority. They were rude from the moment they heard my name and told me I had no water rights, and that I must never touch the water that went through my land.

But I knew of a verbal agreement my great-grandfather had made. As a former water sheriff, he’d been granted permanent water rights to that land—though not on paper.

The official laughed. “You have no proof therefore that agreement is null and void.”

But I did have proof: the irrigation system itself. It could only have been installed if my family had water rights.

I left that office upset. It felt like the guy in charge had sold my rights to someone else. Later, I did some legal research and learned that irrigation authorities must lease the strip of land their canals use when crossing private land.

The next day, I went to a construction company I’d worked with before. I knew one of the owners' brothers worked at the water authority. I booked two large diggers and told them I needed them at my ranch immediately—to remove an illegal, trespassing canal. I showed them where on the map it was and offered to pay whatever it cost.

The next morning, I went to the ranch alone. I didn’t expect the contractors to arrive.

An old man walked up to me and sat down. He was a billionaire landowner and neighbor.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning, neighbor. What brings you to my land?”

He smiled. “You are your great-grandpa’s child for sure.”

“What do you mean?” 

“No one can bully you. And you’re a landowner, through and through.” 

“Was there ever a doubt?” 

“I didn’t have any doubts, but you’re a tiny thing. I told them not to mess with you, but they didn’t listen.”

“Oh, so you’re here to represent those thieves from the water authority?”

“My young friend, I’m not their representative. But they did ask me to speak with you.”

“Too scared to come themselves?”

“I suppose so. Just to let you know, your contractors aren’t coming. The guy you booked them with has a brother at the water authority.”

I smiled. “There are other contractors who don’t have brothers there.”

He laughed so hard, he cried.“You knew?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“You knew they wouldn’t come today?”

“I figured someone from the water authority would. I didn’t expect you.”

He nodded. 

“So, do I need to find an incorruptible contractor—or are you here to tell me my irrigation times?” I asked him.

“Tuesdays between ten and twelve in the morning,” he said. 

“Good man,” I answered.

Then he relaxed and told me stories about my great-grandfather, known as “El Quixote.” He told me about a brother and sister who wanted to meet “El Quixote’s daughter.” But that’s also a story for another day.

The ranch had been given to my great-grandfather. He gave it to his son. His son gave it to my father. My siblings and I inherited half. My father sold me his half. My siblings signed over theirs. I became the sole owner.

With that ownership came power.

Eventually, I decided to sell the ranch and I returned the money to my family. We reinvested in property in Spain, which also brought us power. We later sold that property and used the money for different things.

That power is gone.

Just because land makes you more able to do things doesn’t mean you’ll do wise things. Or positive things. Many organizations and people in the power-over-others paradigm don’t use that power positively. My father didn’t use the ranch’s power consciously—he thought those ideas were the crazy ramblings of his late father.

I’ve spent many hours repeating this: owning land makes you powerful. And this: fear of power is one of the main stumbling blocks of lightworkers.

Why do I repeat it? Because we’re at the cusp of a split in reality. One that separates those who want to remain in the light/dark reality from those who choose only light.

As you step into the light, you need to manifest powerfully and quickly. The stories I shared above are grounded in the day-to-day grind of Earth. They are not fantastical, weird, or savior-based stories. They illustrate how this works.

The mystical secrets of land ownership are already used by those empowering the dark. And they’re kept secret for a reason. The reason is that they are guarding the information that can empower people so that those people don’t become powerful. Simple.

I don’t have to share this information with you.

I choose to.

Can low-frequency beings use it too? Yes. They already are. Will this essay help them? Maybe. But the chances of them reading to the end are slim.

There’s a larger orchestration at play when it comes to receiving information.

We can call it synchronicity—a term popularized by Carl Jung, based on ancient I-Ching wisdom.

Nothing happens by chance.

The fact that all the land that Larry and I now own was once the land of native people to whom we have blood connections with, or previous life connections with, is interesting. Something, again, to explore in a different essay.

So, if you don’t already own land, go out there and figure out how to get some. Then, sit on it and connect with it.