Peace & Enterprise

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 on top of theirs, they’re definitely much better off than before I got them on the road: Pat Haggard of Bridges Academy and David Quigley of the Alchemy Institute. 
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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.