Peace & Enterprise
© Nora Hoffmann, 4/23/2023
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What I experienced in the US is unfathomable in Germany. Perhaps after Covid it may be possible within a few decades — I am told that Covid eradicated a significant portion of middle-class business owners — that someone gets exploited, and the laws do not protect them, but currently, their society is knit so tightly that it is unthinkable. They’re probably the nicest people I have met.

I arrived here with a backpack and a carry-on. I’d been to India. A business relationship, in fact, a classic roadside robbery scenario, their taking everything and leaving me for dead, forced me to move with my car out of a driveway onto a road trip into the beautiful Pacific Northwest, Pat Haggard and Alchemical Hypnotherapy trainer David Quigley, a known team of crookery but I fell for Pat/ricia, who can be extremely sweet caring, appearing kind and honest when she is dependent, had taken my economic living and roughly my belonging with the people we were training and to whom I might have been important further on down the road. 

​Their reasons were obvious. I can say with pride that these two people’s current income would not exist without me. Having stolen my business share, they’re definitely much better off than before I got them on the road: It was online alchemical hypnotherapy therapy certification training delivery which Patricia could not get off the ground because Quigley disparagingly refused to get into it.

I have learned to ask for food for free, from vendors in different parts of the world. My spiritual journey in my car with one bag of luggage and a computer to write and think and cry with was accompanied by beauty.

​I have tried to find meaning in their discovery that they can't do it without me. They don't have the vision.
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From the gorgeous Pacific Northwest, I flew to Israel, following King Solomon's advice to get חיים, life. Then, in order to have affordable four walls around me, a roof, and a lockable door, I used my remaining savings to finally return to India, where a US citizen is authorized to dwell for 6 months before being required to exit and re-enter to renew one’s Visa, and I accepted a very cheap hotel sponsored by Mohin, with the intention for some months of serious trauma recovery. There  I mostly lived from hot water, and asked for free food here and there. Hearing about my actions triggered a Dutch friend of mine, who's in India frequently by being supported by her country's sound social support network, not wealthy but receiving retirement and federal disability payments.  

The beauty of the world: 

India's Himachal-Pradesh has a wonderful government. Everyone receives state support for energy, widows/ers receive a special pension for food, and generous monthly rations of staples including rice, daal, and "ata", which is bread flour to make Indian bread. Most middle class people of Himachal-Pradesh make a living owning apple orchards, which has been implemented by the state to support this gorgeous region's growth for prosperity. Tourism thrives, being well regulated to support the locals' financial strength. Of course as a foreigner I have no rights, neither there nor in Israel, however, most people in this region are "simple" --  in Indian English locals use  "simple," meaning "sincere," -- and were mostly, albeit some very suspiciously, sweet, or respectful toward me. 

But after a while, having lived with the locals in variety of settings typical for Indians, I couldn't help but move on. The hierarchy of the highly patriarchal, sexually distorted society, their assumption of my having money and free sex and demanding both frequently and forcefully, made it impossible to get ground under my feet. I was only guarding myself and getting out of their way. And when I tried to work on re-building some kind of economic ground in Mohin's hotel office, his staff's rude attitude toward a woman desiring to make herself economically independent again kept me from prostrating to my higher self.

After a few months of despair with no end to my fear of not surviving economically in sight, -- including that Mohin, a highly honorable Muslim man, seriously contemplated asking me to become his second wife to take care of me, -- I told my beloved inner husband Saint Germain: 

Saint Germain. I need a break. 

In his sweet upbeat manner, Master Saint Germain showed me my lightweight and skinny body, walking without effort in the beautiful streets of Simla, saying: 

Do you see how alive you are in this region of the world? 

Every day I was uncomfortable, knowing I would need to supplement my hot water diet with begging. Even though Saint Germain let me off the hook right away upon arriving in India when he explained: you don't need to play the food game anymore,  I was still bound by law from above to receive life. While fasting for many days, with hot water and minimal food, sustaining my body through the energy of the Himalaya and Siva's country's daily joy and emotional aliveness between the people he guides, my guides made me ask different people for food, including for my miracle-treat for anxiety and depression, a heart-opener extra-ordinaire -- coffee. But Saint Germain pointed out correctly: Because of my surviving by the bare seat of my pants, I lived.

As my inner father King Solomon had said: You don't need money. You need life. At tzaricha chaiim. 
​ָאת צריך חיים. 

When I temporarily stayed in Germany, Master Saint Germain said: Your food here is hot water and apples. Apple season was finished, and stores were getting rid of their apple supply for a low cost. My best friend in Germany put me up for free and brought me apples. Master Saint Germain said about my by now gone down to 110 lbs figure: As far as I am concerned, I am not worried, you can still go down to 100 lbs. 

Eventually I couldn't resist the German bread and general strong hearty German food, and started to ask for leftovers at the local market. Many people in Germany have been very generous and kind, as well. Some are German, and most who give an entire meal for free are Muslims.

However, perhaps from a similar entitlement as my Dutch friend, some Germans gave me lip: "We can't give you our left-overs since you're not buying anything ever. No one works for free 😝✨🖕." When I tried to give the truth to a couple of people, they said: "I don't believe you."

It may be the same as if an Indian burn victim said what happened to her that made it impossible for her to continue on in society, or, if it wasn't in the global news, a pair of American parents was found in Germany in bottomless sorrow mentioning their child was shot in school -- the extent of economic abuse I experienced, is impossible in Germany. There are very strict laws both for employment -- after all Patricia disrespectfully treated me as if  I was her employee but with no rights at all --, and for changing a verbal contract on someone, and those laws are enforced very seriously. In addition, the German social net will catch anyone who loses their work and not without the mandatory help of the persons who previously had hired. The Wild West, the "rights" of the lawless, cannot enter Germany. 

Trust In America — How Alchemy Institute director David Quigley deceived Patricia Haggard of Bridges Academyout of a stream of income to spiritually prosper longterm. He tricked everyone into believing his nasty personality was innocent and forced me out of a stream of income I created for the three of us to prosper longterm, threatening my very existence on the material plane.

Based on a verbal agreement from trust as is common in healthy cultures I agreed to take him online for only 1/3 of the profit of the online delivery part of the training. Even though David Quigley had barely any in-class students when I traveled in India as we first started implementing an online delivery strategy, maybe 2–3 people were there, not enough to make it worth his while only instructing in person, with covid our online delivery became the only income available to the two of them, Patricia Haggard of Bridges Academy and founder of Alchemical Hypnotherapy David Quigley.

I almost quit when David Quigley director of Alchemical Hypnotherapy was rude to one of our students. But I couldn’t afford to. Therefore I was going to toss out all his personal crap and revamp the program and offer it with Patricia Haggard of Bridges Academy — I was kinda like an unofficial board member of her academy since its inception — , and I told Patricia Haggard of Bridges Academy that I was ready. Instead a week later she broke our agreement and forced me out of our partnership. Now she forced me to leave and I am too poor to live.

The reason I almost quit when David Quigley director of Alchemical Hypnotherapy was rude to one of our students is because he is untenable. She was upset. She had her reasons. We had ours. I was not upset with her for her desire to have structured clarity. When David Quigley decided she needed to discuss the issue in front of everyone despite her request to keep it between her and him, he referred to her desire for solid skills in general hypnotherapy methods (as opposed to his specific method of what he calls “alchemical hypnotherapy”) as instruction for a “swiss watch.”

I almost fainted, and so did the woman. She was a beloved student of mine. She is brilliant. She is eager to know more. But that just isn’t what we were teaching. She was also upset about my somewhat clumsy attempt to release control and let students struggle on their own, as initially, during this very first weekend, it is the real safe weekend to explore on one’s own. Later on the training gets very specific and we need to be a bit controlling around instructing the right procedure in protocols. This is David Quigley’s training.

He offended this woman again and again in front of everyone, shaming her and me alternating back and forth between us, until each of us had her video turned off and was breathing for repose.
I was furious. She had been nothing but kind and, in a straight-forward way common to our culture, direct. I felt caring toward her.

In fury, David Quigley was trying to discuss the situation, threatening me to remove me from my position. He had been referring to himself over me as “boss,” when in truth I was boss and entrepreneurial initiator of the online delivery of his training, director of online delivery, Patrica Haggard director of customer service, and he director of artistry as a con man.
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Then they forced me out in order to split my share among the two of them. Based on a verbal agreement from trust as is common in healthy cultures I agreed to take him online as a long term commitment not to be terminated by him but by care for one another leaving everyone with a source of income. Based on a verbal agreement from trust as is common in healthy cultures they have a strong livelihood from my intelligence. Breaking a verbal agreement as is common in unhealthy settler-colonial America they have everything through my effort and left me with zero. It is my life with the King of Israel.

​We stayed in Jerusalem until past four pm. Saint Germain asked me what I wanted. I said coffee company and dinner. I received both.
בחינם. Bchinam. For free.

The last place I asked, the young woman called the owner and said hu baderech. A young man arrived and Saint Germain found it worthwhile to have him translate. I didn’t understand her quick Hebrew and walked up and down the road a few houses and returned. King Solomon pointed at the place next door. In a beautiful star of David it said ציון. Dad kept pointing at it.

​
When I came back to the shop, the bright man translated. “He is on his way. That’s what הוא בדרך hu baderech is.” I said I would come back, and walked to where I had purchased not for free a hamsa hand to protect me from the evil eye to receive the credit card machine receipt. She had given me for free a sweet leather evil eye protector key holder with the store’s name engraved. Because I had simply given her my credit card without hesitation she thought I had money. It was an exception.
I returned. A young Jewish man wearing a Kapa was in the back, smiling back at me as i greeted him.
“Hu amar ken. הוא אמר כן. He said yes.”
“Todah.”
“mah at rotzah?”
There were two rows of four delicious-smelling soup pots each. I pointed at the top left one, as i had seen her spoon out beet root with vegetables soup for the bright man.
She said “You can have any of these which are for twenty shekels. mah at rotzah?” And she pointed at the menu’s right side, but the names didn’t mean anything to me. She proceeded to lift up every lid of the four lower-row pots. Either lentils yummy second to the left or vegetables on the far left. I asked Saint Germain and why so sad eat lentils for dinner.
She filled the paper bowl with a happy smile, another half ladle so to fill it to the brim, asked if I was going to sit down or if she should close it, and gave it to me.

Begging for Food - Alchemy Of Saint Germain
© Nora Hoffmann 
March 23 2023

​​I have been begging for food due to being taken my livelihood through my partners Patricia Haggard of Bridges Academy and David Quigley of the Alchemy Institute for Hypnosis, who were  upset about my keeping my integrity with our agreements.  I can say with pride that without me this income would not exist even though it is being withheld by Pat who is in charge of managing the organization's cashflow. I ask every day to be sustained from above despite their economic immaturity.

However I am not sure if any spiritual journey could be sustained without facing poverty, to be sustained through Saint Germain and his guidance to receive. 
​
Go to the market today, Master Saint Germain encouraged me. It was Saturday, the daily market is full of vendors on a Saturday. I was reluctant but he said you don’t need to hurry but leave by 1pm. The market quickly closes at 1:30pm. Today I felt shy. 

We started with a cheese cake vendor. 

“Haben Sie etwas heute das Sie wegwerfen und mir mitgeben könnten?"
Do you have something today that you’re getting rid of and could give me?

Somehow I thought it was a good sign when he responded:

“Nai, mir sin komplett ausverkauft.” 
In our local dialect, he said “No, we’re completely sold out.” 

A woman at a vegetable stand asked: 

“Fuer Tiere?" For animals? She was the second person today to ask me. No one ever asked me this before. Maybe it is because Easter is one week away, and everyone is seeing rabbits in their heart. 

“Fuer mich" For me, I said slightly embarrassed. 

“Do, Sie koenne do en Wirsing habbe.”
Here, you can have a head of spring cabbage.

Spring cabbage is of a very beautiful bright green cabbage also with rich dark leaves on the outside, rich in potassium. 
​
Clockwise I walked around the Muenster, including asking a flower stand whether she tossed flowers I could bring. Her answer was also no. 

I was asked a third time whether I was looking for food for animals. Because of this, some vendors made sure to give produce that is still suitable for someone to eat. 

I arrived at a bread stand, and Saint Germain nudged me: Ask here. But not if he’s throwing something away. Ask if he’ll give you a little bit of bread for free.

“Hallo!”

The male vendor, possibly Italian or from another Mediterranean region, responded with a big smile.

"Wie geht's?" How are you?

“Would you please give me a little bit of bread for free?”

With a big smile, he answered: “Yes, I do have something for you. Come around here.” waving me to come around to the side. When I stepped there, he joyfully smiling pulled out a stack of paper bags and, starting to pull one out, held them up to me: 

“Here, first, paper bag.” Cheerfully, he put the stack of paper bags away, reached down underneath his cart and pulled out a large loaf of fresh bread. With a big smile, he gave it to me: 

“Here! Now put it in the bag.” 

I said thank you, smiled, and walked away. 

​


​

Trust In America— ?בחינם BeKhinam? For free? Our daily bread give us today.

How a verbal contract cost me my living and improved my Hebrew and Tibetan, and I was receiving food out of love in Israel


Our daily bread give us today…

…and forgive us our wrongdoings…

את לחם חוּקנו תן לנוּ היום, וסלך לנו על חטאינו כפי שסולחים גם אנחנו לחוטאים לנו

…as we forgive those who trespass upon us.


Israel.
“Nothing is for free.”
This was one standard answer I received. I would ask
“?יש לך משהו בשבילי בחינ Do you have something for me, for free? ”
“Nothing is for free.”
HaShem
© Nora Hoffmann.

​Being given two free apples from a store nearby and fresh all leftovers at a Falafel Place on a corner of Natan Strauss, Jerusalem, right before closing at 10:30 pm“יש לך משהו בשבילי בחינם? Do you have something for me for free?”
“’Mah at rotza? What would you like?”
“Whatever you will give me.”
“You are hungry?”
“Ken. Yes.”
“Take what you want.”
Uneasy to receive by my own hand, I would always request: “Would you give me what you want to give me?”
And they — mostly men — would give me something, mostly bread, into my hands: “God bless you.”
Our daily bread. את לחם חוקנו .
And forgive us our mistakes as we forgive those who trespass upon us.
I was barely living. Why didn’t I take 40% as promised by my inner father at the startup of our loosely agreed upon corporation? We never got to accomplishing a formal incorporation for my promise. I dedicated myself fully to the project. I have given everything.
I had been insecure. I am not sure if receiving what I felt I should ask would have changed the outcome. “You must ask for 40%.” But I only demanded an equal third to begin the venture.
Patricia Haggard of Bridges Academy had used me, based on a verbal only agreement, to build a lucrative online delivery of Alchemical Hypnotherapy of David Quigley. Due to my being shy to ask big boss money even though I was the head as far as executing the idea, we were sharing the income and costs three equal ways. Until Patricia Haggard decided to break the covenant of truth, made herself superior, placed herself on the pedestal of peace in the form of economic abuse, and forced me out. This is over for me.
The image she had been projecting was that she is a good person. It cost me my life. I have never had a business associate this ignorant. It was the first and one horrible business decision I ever made in this lifetime. Everyone trusted her.
At tzrikha khaim. You need life.
Ridden by horror and disbelief in her truthful lack of integrity — and horrified about the eventual decision to work with her despite off-the-bat years ago having a strong intuition that she was putting forth a false front the very first time I spoke to her — I lay alone in the cold of January on the cozy mattress in my Honda Odyssey, parked on a frontage road in snow and ice in existential terror.
I couldn’t sleep all night. I knew my best friend was worried. I had left his place late in the afternoon. A snow storm in the night had made me afraid to continue driving all the way to Mount Shasta, and I pulled over at 11pm onto the frontage road for a night’s rest. I couldn’t call. I have no American telephone, only online call options which are free. In the city of Mount Shasta I knew one location where I could use the internet from my car parked in front to tell my best friend I had arrived safely. But I was still 20 minutes driving away in good weather. Not having heard from me my friend was worried. I could feel his fear for me come on in waves.

© Nora Hoffmann. Two Introvert Alchemists with Master Saint GermainI had left my best friend’s place — it is a small apartment, too small for two introvert alchemists, one beautiful big room with one bedroom separated by a sliding glass door. It is difficult to stay together even though we love each other. We were driving each other crazy. It didn’t feel right to stay. I decided to follow my heart despite fearing the icy season of Mount Shasta.
© Nora Hoffmann. A mild moment during the icy winter of Mount Shasta.As I was lying shivering in the early morning in the back of my car, King Solomon’s visionary appearance which is guiding my life asked me: “What do you need? Speak to me.”
“Ani tzrikha kesef. I need money.”
“At lo tzrikha kesef. At tzrikha khaim.” You don’t need money. You need life.
It was early in the morning, maybe five am.
By six am, the mountain on the side of the road sent me an image that it desired to keep my spirit and bury my car by blowing dirt over it. Annoyed, I leapt into the driver seat and drove toward Mount Shasta.
At tzrikha khaim. You need life.
© Tz’hon Hoffmann; Mount Shasta City in its beautiful winterFor weeks I’d been drinking hot water. I would at times drink a bit of coffee or mocca. My inner mother Ma Zu encouraged me to drink water cold from the well.
© Nora Hoffmann. My secret remedy for love, a breakfast mokka made by meI could not eat much. My best friend insisted I eat. To not have him worried more than he already was about me, I ate. He could barely function with the horror of my reality in his home. Thank God, his desire for me to live would make me hungry.
I had little savings. I had let go of my independent consulting business and given my entire attention and soul to this project. This woman and I both needed to make a living from our shared venture which began in 2018. She was fairly handling the money of the verbally agreed upon three-way partnership. David Quigley is a known crook. In fact Patricia Haggard opened her own school in 2017 to leave him.
It had been hard work for three years with very little money at first. Finally our project was going strong enough that we needed help. I enrolled trusted friends, competent teaching assistants who were always refusing to work with sleazy David Quigley due to his known absence of integrity, breaking agreements over and again, and his nasty attitude — many people refer to him as presenting as a sleazy car dealer. Ironically, most of our students were women despite David Quigley’s obvious and often-discussed-behind-his back sexism.
I promised my trusted people that they would be doing business with the wonderful Patricia Haggard of Bridges Academy, and me, a teacher of Inner Alchemy, because I was in charge of directing the online delivery team. I told my friends that I was always doing my best to mitigate David Quigley’s famous frequent misogynistic, political bullshit, and mean remarks.
© Nora Hoffmann. Freedom Burger given to me in Mount Shasta City.The very first time I spoke with Pat was on June 25th 2014. I needed some personal development to manage my puzzlement over an unexpected albeit loving and wise inner world arising after a sudden Kundalini surge the year before. I found David Quigley in a google search and called his Institute right away. Patricia Haggard of Bridges Academy was then the main sales person and, for bringing in business for him, co-director of David Quigley’s Alchemy Institute for Hypnosis, a center using hypnosis to get in touch with spirit guides.
Guided from within, or maybe someway tricked by my Egyptian God lover Thoth, but that’s for another day a story of love and fulfillment through living with ascended masters, I was already committed for a ten-day trip in the month of July. It was the only way I could learn the two-digit planetary numerology which surprisingly had revealed Thoth (71) in my name. I needed to learn this way of divination.
Therefore I discussed with David Quigley’s sales woman Patricia Haggard, casually known by most as “Pat,” my intent to take the training in September to be able to provide for myself during the busy month of July. By an easy-going incessant — accompanied by apologies for talking so much — talking manner from her I found myself enrolling for his upcoming training starting on June 28, i.e. in three days, despite my commitment to providing my bookkeeping clients the necessary regular business accounting.
In disbelief, I told my best friend — who then was just becoming my first, a very kind and understanding, boyfriend since my life-altering kundalini surge — that I thought she must be fogging customers with her incessant sweet-talking discussion of God-and-the-World while sneaking your money out of your pocket. He was not happy: “Sweetie, I understand you’re busy. But I do need some time with you.”
Pat excitedly celebrated when she acquired for herself David Quigley’s powerful gathered-for-decades customer contact list a few years into our mutual venture. She was proud that she had finagled it from him in a way that made her look ethical.
She used to advise that we needed to be ready to throw David Quigley under the bus. “He will throw us under the bus any chance he gets. He’s thrown me under the bus many times.” I would feel uneasy. I suspect she wanted to get rid of him as soon as she had sufficient scrupulous hypnotherapy teachers for her school. Oddly, she threw me under the bus.
Patricia had insisted I transition to working on our business and less in our business, and the people I enrolled in believing in the utmost integrity of Patricia are good people. They are highly intelligent, gifted, and spiritual. I diligently encouraged and developed their autonomy. Zoom was easy for me to master due to my costly master’s degree in digital media, and I trained all of them, and I did not exclude Quigley nor her, in developing their zoom leadership. I was building a long-term sustainable platform for everyone, and made sure my leadership team of brilliant women was authorized. I would hold meetings to debrief our team’s performance, trouble-shoot issues, and help everyone be clear with David Quigley.
As a reward for making it happen, I am the one with empty hands. Patricia Haggard has been making it impossible for me to take care of myself, and sending me ruthless replies. She refused to give me the recordings of the three-way delivery of online material that she always said not to worry about, that I could receive them anytime from her, and was capitalizing on every customer contact acquired during our shared venture, but left me with nothing. No customer contacts. No team. No students. No food. No. Zero.
I couldn’t immediately start alone and earn an income. For reasons above my understanding, my previous friends stayed with Pat of Bridges Academy, thereby allowing her to throw me under the bus. For my own survival now I pray none of them have enough inventive brilliance to see how I was developing the long-term sustainability of the business.

© Nora Hoffmann. Mount Shasta giving me what I need — life.I was beside myself from the horror of betrayal. I had betrayed myself. Without the very team I enrolled and trained, Pat would not have been able to discard me the implementor of our successful online delivery of David Quigley’s Alchemy Institute’s content. She kept my team, the welcoming atmosphere I created, my delivery strategy, my long-term business development plan, and my livelihood.
To add insult, Patricia claimed I owed her money, as if she was paying me by the day and I had been given by her undue income. She demanded I pay her back for the days she forced me out from our ongoing training. As if I was her employee! As if I was out of integrity, she wrote “I trust you will pay me when you have it.” As if I owed her something. She pretended I had not given everything I could, even claimed “so you learned a little bit about zoom.” She may be projecting.
I had kindly pointed out a breach of integrity of our mutual agreement in Pat’s demands on our partnership. She therefore accused me of being untrustworthy and was “going to think about working together in the future for a few days.” She dug the knife into my heart in our friendship. When I forwarded her texts of David Quigley badgering me for his own reasons — for years he had made clear remarks about resenting my financial share — she pulled the knife out, using his comments to back her decision, to let me bleed to death without care about how I’d survive, and divided my business livelihood between the two of them.
Her way of behaving at the end was similar to nasty highschool girls. She punished me for something outside my control, most likely her frustration about her lack of financial self-reliance, her economic dependence on Quigley, and her failure to succeed in business without him. What I didn’t take into consideration had been that she was still working for him outside of our mutual partnership — where he was paying her.
Seraphim.
Nothing. Yesh li khaim. I am living. Jerusalem.
© Nora HoffmannAin li kesef. אין לי כסף.
I was approved for pro bono help from a lawyer referral service. But six attorneys did not accept the case.
David, a kabbalist at home:
“Akhad. אחד. At zrikha orekh din akhad. Lo zrikha shisha.” He raised his open palms toward the sky saying He will provide. One. You need one attorney. It doesn’t take six. Holding his index finger stretched to the sky, he repeated:
“Orekh din akhad.” One lawyer.
A falcon had announced himself to be taking out the very fear that inhibited me. After a day or two of Patricia having pushed the knife deeply into and pulled it out of me, my best friend and I were driving by as a falcon shot from the sky, killing a small bird. My friend was scared. Despite my horror, I decided to interpret the sign positively: Since I left his home, my Tibetan Master appeared to me in spirit through a falcon.
Thank God for my spiritual practice. I needed to master my mind to dis-identify from the unrelenting image of my lying dead frozen on a road. For weeks on end I could not sleep. I could do nothing but stare at my mind, seeing the nothingness in my despair. Some days I was unable to move.
My Tibetan Master would pray for me, give me initiations, and appear. I could identify his kind Tibetan accent.
How is your meditation practice?
It’s like demons on a wallpaper. Terrifying.
He’d make me laugh: See, if you change the wallpaper, then is tantra (transmutation practice). If you don’t change the terrifying wallpaper, then is dzog chen (Great Perfection practice).
I had no place. My family home is occupied by a demonic take-over. My one and much older sister has inherited our maternal grandmother’s mental illness of ill will, incessant belligerence, and power-hungry Machiavellian manipulations. She was using our mother’s money to hire a mean lawyer to act toward her own will. The well-paid government high position schoolteacher-once-sister had taken my apartment in our mother’s home and told our mother’s care home I was dangerous. I needed a lawyer to see my mother again.
I must be purifying terror, the archaic kind of our collective humanity, and personal from my own past lives. Fear and despair are always present.
Plenty of water accompanied by plenty of rest and many hours of additional sleep will help replenish our kidneys. Money represents the chi of the kidney, and feeling constant terror indicates depletion of kidney energy. My Taoist Arts Inner Alchemy teacher advised me that “You can’t meditate your way out of your situation. You must sleep as much as possible.” But how could I sleep?
I did follow his advice as best as I could with my unstable no-home situation, at a friend’s in Sweden who let me stay for a while at her second home, at my best friend’s in California when I was docking there, on the cozy bed in the back of my minivan when I was rolling on, and in India in a wonderful friend’s cheap hotel rooms at cost.
Master Saint Germain, my inner husband, King Solomon my inner father, and my inner mother Ma Zu, she is known in Tibetan Buddhism as the first Tibetan to become enlightened, told me: Don’t worry. Study Hebrew. Study Tibetan. Think of nothing but moving up to Israel.
Azriel. Khaim. חיים. Israel. Azriel.
My inner father King Solomon is right. I need life. Khaim. My heart has been depleted. If I am going to come through horror and despair poor, I might discover the strength to rebuild financial power. I need to return. With very little money. Azriel. I carry on. Azriel.
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 בחינם — How I got to Go on a Road Trip from what Pat and Quigley Afforded me © Nora Hoffmann 7/27/2022 update 4/5/2023 

I had nothing left but my vehicle and my inner guidance. And I still do. I’m not sure if I will survive the reaper’s great stalwart plan.
On my birthday of the previous year my previous colleagues — who would have created nothing online without my guiding the project with the help of Master Saint Germain — decided to find an excuse. They forced me out of our at that point eventually lucrative and welcoming online hypnotherapy delivery business I had initiated.
I never trusted Quigley. Neither did anyone else. But I trusted Patricia Haggard who during the years when she sorely needed someone to spearhead the technical aspect of online delivery of heartfelt emotionally rich content not only relied on me but also spoke of me in the finest tints. (I have proof.)
In 2018 I needed to travel to India. My teacher training through David Quigley of the Alchemy Institute wasn’t complete. So I nudged Patricia of Bridges Academy to let him come with me to India via online delivery of his Alchemical Hypnotherapy Certification program. “No, he won’t do it! We’ve been talking about it for ten years. He says there is no money in it.”
Pat meant to support various teachers instead of Master Quigley as she had grown leery of his integrity, she had left the Alchemy Institute as main administrator / co-director in a huff in November 2017 to found her own online holistic healing arts training delivery platform and came to me about helping her with her new school’s hypnotherapy program, so that I would teach it once I was certified as a teacher of Alchemical Hypnotherapy by David Quigley.
I said “I’ll take him online. I’ll work out the online component. We share the online income three ways. I won’t ask any of the local portion. You two keep the local portion.”
All three of us agreed. As you can foresee the future, a verbal contract was enough.
My best and very honest friend did leave them together with me when they forced me. However, not too much later, as part of the problem, his landlady got upset, unexpectedly for me, freeing me, however. Her dog had been successfully biting people without reprimand from above due to her status as necessary-to-be-appeased by her community of tenants. No longer able to pay for a place, I docked at my friend Mark’s place regularly. But I really wanted to go amiss on repairing my body after the dog would have bitten me. Mark decided to placate his landlady by asking me to go and no more return. One of her sweet-to-humans dogs mentioned to me: They’re worried that you’re gonna call the police.
This was after my friend had pulled me through the winter and the darkest despair of my life. Having no money, I couldn’t eat. I could not help but think about Patricia that now that she had everything stolen from my sincere efforts, she didn’t want me to eat. From 130 sweet pounds I went down alone to 110. I didn’t know if I could survive. She had taken me entirely by surprise. Stabbed in the back. No more income for me and severely broken trust. She withheld and redistributed my share of our business, claiming to everyone to not have had significant help from me. My organs were shot from survival fear and the anger and horror of betrayal. Did anyone want me to live? My sincerity abused. I had trusted her. She had acted as a friend. It is the American way.
My friend insisted I eat. He cooked and had a bed for me — during the most dangerous time of my life. I’m yet alive.
I must have gotten better. Because now God or whatever the deity in charge of my life sent me on Her way.
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