Mission Saint Germain
"Life Lessons with Uncle Mike"
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Dear readers of Mission Saint Germain,
The following is a personal and special account of a person who has helped shaped my path. We all have people who come into our lives whose life story and experience impact our learning and understanding. We would be fortunate if we would know even a few. I have found it is not the "perfect" examples that have often reflected the most, but rather those that reveal the transcendence and struggles we all experience. Sometimes we come to learn from life as "Grandfather," has taught,... depending on where we sit in the medicine wheel. I thought it will be helpful to include one of Grandfather's stories, which were always a guidepost for life itself. Afterwards i follow with my own accounts of inspirations and lesson's i have learned from "Uncle Mike." I hope you too realize Spirit is teaching all of us from the many manifestations of  beauty and mystery of life unfolding itself. Go in the way of a good Vision. RH 

.......... Two things happen to a man when he sees himself in the great Looking Pond and neither of them tells the truth. A young brave marvels at his reflection, his strong form and how it cuts a handsome silhouette with the mother sky behind it. He should be happy but he's not for he longs for the things that only wisdom and many winters can bring.


The uncle is equally discontent but for different reasons. He has mounted many horses, but privately he laments getting old....he wonders, if he too has made his mark on the trail of the great prairie.


Hah!.....that's the funny thing with the two leggeds. "We’re never happy!" The young are too eager to chase life only to learn some time he will stand before the looking back water just like the Uncle.


Don't always trust what you think you see, especially about yourself. We like to crow like loud birds. You think you see who you are in that shiny water, but you should learn to see yourself as the Great Spirit does. He does not wonder only, have you known many great and strange things.


What is important that when a time comes to wait on a vision an upright knows his place before the creator. Things are different before the great mystery that is life, and life is not just what a man sees staring back at him in the water.


You should think our good friend, the looking glass in the ground is the jokester, the trickster.....it tries to fool us, but so that we can learn. When we have figured out its ways, it releases to us a piece of the vision, whether a man smiles with good or crooked teeth.


I tell you, live your ways as you will, but learn to think like a man who gets from the looks back water, a true story. The true story of a man must include those that he helps on the great journey. Others may take something and grow it in a greater way than we can.    Does the path of he that points the arrow to teaching matter less?    You may not see the good things that you have dreamed for others rise up in the ground, but because you do not live in that camp does it happen not?  


It is a good thing to live in balance within oneself, sometimes you will fail and it will not be so important. Learn to hope and to live as the great mystery Spirit that guides all,...... the flying things, the uprights, the four leggeds, even the rocks and you will understand.     You will decide to learn it is so, or i will sit here and wait.   It does not change things from the way they are. You can always go back to the pond and take your chances with the trickster.


........GRANDFATHER on learning from the looks back water.


Uncle Mike (top left) Sherry (red shirt) and younger RH in Tuscon Violet Flame Class around '95-97

In certain traditions, the Uncle, is the loved one, and the learned one.


We may be somewhat forgotten in the old ways, but the Indians knew all of life were your relations. In that sense maybe you can understand the path with a heart i have shared with Uncle Mike, sometimes called "El Heffe," or as the families of La Manga, Mexico have known him as "El Renegado." For me he is Heffe. Some Hispanics with a not too serious sense of themselves or their culture refer to each other as "my cousin" or my "uncle," regardless of whether their is a biological tie or not. It is an "affiliation" of love handed out in affection. We used to say, it doesn't matter, "somewhere down the lines, we're

Related anyway. For me and Uncle Mike it has always been that way. Michael Hager, "el heffe," whatever if anything and everything has always been about love. Michael Hager in spite of inconsistencies, his voracity for life is and has expressed himself to be a core level loving human being, an upright as Grandfather might say and luminary of life and at times the king of hyperbole.


It's not really fair to tell the story of another through your own incomplete or at times isolated experiences, but knowing Mike or experiencing the expression of Michael Hager, has been itself the fabric and mosaic of life's colorful tapestry. I roll back in reflection and learn as we do via the re-call, the ole "rope de dope," waxing and looking back upon things and people and yet having perspective of the present. Uncle Mike, is like that. The tale of the tape picks up with me hitchhiking along Hwy 1 to Pacifica, with a Safeway bag of clothes and some ideas and hopes for life in the city (San Francisco)


Michael, had gotten a job in the inner city and underground world of TV and Video Marketing with a company called Astronics (i believe) as a Production and Marketing Director. He was making $60,000 a year in a time (1978) when it really was a lot of money. He had disposable income for excesses and never needed extravagant digs, drove a souped-up Dodge Charger, Military green and was gracious enough to provide a temporary sleeping place for me as i was to soon to embark on a path that would eventually lead to a more sustaining Spiritual , Mystical pursuit.


Heffe, had himself been emerged in earlier, metaphysical discovery and occurrences with an eclectic San Francisco based Futurist-survivalist group called "Safespace." Later relationship and intersecting paths would not only link myself to Hager, but through to others who would play a part in the "dharma" and karmic meetings that characterize one's life.


Before i had "found" the path of Saint Germain, The Ascended Masters and the higher purpose for life and it's mysteries, it was individuals like Hager who would play a part to begin opening my eyes to Mysticism, the purpose of re-incarnation, soul-groups and the great Cosmic drama life can be for the seeker of truth.


Around, the period of 1974-75 and before i met Mike, he had been involved with an Anthropology oriented quest into the jungles of Colombia with the "Safespace" team and during the heights and interests, period wise in what could be termed, occult sciences, medicinal and experimental uses of herbs and undocumented, but paranormal occurrences with South American Shaman.


Additionally, Michael had some association and awareness of Blavatsky's teachings during this period. H.P. Blavatsky, A Russian born, student and messenger of the Tibetan adepts, the Masters M (Morya) and K.H. (Koot Hoomi) was responsible for the founding of the Theosophical Society in the late 1800's.


I was in fact, while Hager had been involved in a party of Exploration in South America, had been edging to completion of high school by 1976.


Curiously, i was not to discover about Hager's brief study of Blavatsky's works until 2004, when by that period i had become measurably linked to the same lineage of the Teachings of the Ascended Masters and Saint Germain, that sponsored the Theosophical, IAM, Bridge to Freedom and Summit Lighthouse Activities.


At this early juncture in my path (21 years) Hager, myself and his family had forged an obvious heart connection that would prove to be a basis from which we would re-enter into each others lives for over 25 years, almost always with specific purpose and usually portending of a greater Y in the road.


Michael had been characterized, by some of his peers as Super-Talented, but perhaps as myself difficult to be inclined to sustained achievement.


He probably could have gone on to unusual successes in the production side

of the Video industry as he was technically accomplished, but was in evidence of the searchers restlessness, and even at times, indifference to any pro nuclear family concepts.


Michael is and has always been defined by his sense of family and was not in anyway limited to any generic sense of the word. To me he expressed that quality of a Soul, both in tremendous desire to know love and community in a Universal and personal sense. He was very embracing to the, "family of man." in fact his own close knit family would be reared on a home open to and receptive, to a lifelong collective of souls, some mangy, some quite learned.

All, it would seem, would be easily welcomed and warmed. He actually lived for a time on a street called, "Hearthstone."


I was among these "souls," and more than once. I remember a period in Tucson, during the 90's as my life had met a point of intersection of both loss and gradual redemption. For some reason my Karma, would become intertwined with the Hager family on both sides, mostly Michael would provide space and sustenance, i perhaps would be some extension of enduring friendship and inner comfort in times of outer disappointment with friends and dashed hopes.


I laugh back, remembering those lean days, short on cash and resources, when "Heffe," would dole out what we called "Rat bucks," a termed we coined for the scurrying for cash and empathetic to the fallen player....could be a Ten, a Twenty or even a few. Michael knew these times himself often and as was and is characteristic of him to share and be including of people, borne of that, "I know what that space is like," consciousness.


We even gathered in mid afternoons or near dinner, nestled in the "air cooler," different from an air conditioner in "Summery" Tucson and Michael would dispatch one of his boy's (Josh or Mikey) with me to make a, "run for the border" to get what Taco Bell, used to sell as "Ten Packs" of Tacos and feed inexpensively anyone there (at home)


It were moments like these where we waxed and traded barbs, called "bombing runs," on each other. Yes, it was often fueled by periods of unemployment and indulgences, but there was always the nearness and sense of the approaching "windows" of mystical inclinations and calls to purposeful action and consciousness.


It was with Michael, i first heard terms like, "agreement machine," which would portend the first steps of Alchemy and understanding the importance of "masterminding" to accomplish your goals. For sure, it was not a "perfect" environment of either example of Mastery or Purity, but there was never the absence of heart. Juxtaposed would be Michael's willingness to acknowledge the need and help of God. I first saw put into action the devotion to and humility to pray openly to Catholic saints and the rosary, then place an ad of gratitude in the newspaper when the graces of solutions found, appeared in their lives.


Tucson itself proved to be a foray of historical influences, both in the outer by association and in the subconscious. We must remember in perspective, it is still the land of the Old West and for myself and I’m sure many others it is environment for launching one's Vision, particularly influenced by the desert and deserting landscape from which one can find the space and in the often unrelenting Summer heat,.... transformation.


I have said i came to Tucson, and the land itself, and its ways, singed out of me what remaining substance i could not longer carry in my consciousness as "baggage."  Layers of pain or non-surrender, not completely eradicated by free will, could not keep with me, as parts of my known identity remained, something expansive and receptive in me,.... did emerge, and my path, lifestyle and direction would be re-oriented.


Again, it was "Heffe" who helped launch my embarkment of deeper entering into finding my path. Soon, more remnants of my "outlaw" personifications and even interests would become demised in the conquering onslaughts of "getting older," more geezerly as Michael would remind me and navigate his missiles of pointed and if rugged but effective, "straffings" on a worn and waning view of myself. Yes, Michael, in his wit and imperfections had become a instrument

Of my furthering and soon our paths would go in new trails.


I left my brother, Uncle Mike and Tucson, sometime in 1993, onward to a Journey of re-connecting with Saint Germain and the initiations before me in learning the path of the Ascended Masters. I had been living in Michael's driveway in an RV, but undergoing an inner tutoring, studying the texts of the Adepts...taking lone walks in the desert and a nearby wash, being "stripped" in the elements and heat, watching the weight of psychological and emotional burdens given into this transforming fire for i knew not "what" for except an inner purpose.


Towards the end, i less and less went inside the house with Michael and his family. In a way, maybe secretly, unmentioned i felt i had been granted an opportunity to go off to "school" sometimes merited of not all members of the group or tribe. In a sense i felt i was carrying some archetype or metaphor for another aspect of the journey.


It is so interesting that we are mirrors for each other. I was comforted in some sense, Michael, his loyal and accepting wife Sherry, and their son's were inclined, comforted being among each other. Never in a too traditional sense, for there were to be other arrivals. Michael, i felt was at peace in some ways, almost "dug in," but he is a man with the waywardness of the explorer, with an eye to the cosmos and the vistas of the deserts mysteries. There was the reassurance of familiarity and yet the discontent of the Soul that is driven to grow. It was, in a way, that, one must go and one must stay. I always felt objectively that in the crack between worlds of being and becoming, not all of me had been taken, had left the ways of Tucson behind and with Michael, a part himself had gone on this journey with me. He was after all, the Uncle.


Michael and I, both stood upon the bank and saw, into the looks back water and as Grandfather would say, learn to "honor all your relations,".....and so we did.



Michael Hager with children in La Manga

Housing, more modern near the Village, by the resort

Michael again, with Arizona Wildcat hat and close friend, Fred Venegas

Makeshift housing, some construction, fishing boat at the village

view from La manga to San carlos on the Gulf of Mexico

Dr. Alan Bayer, he almost didn't come. Looks like he made a wise investment

One could see why Michael loved this land, mountains just in back of La Manga

More shoreline, a small ways from the Village, Uniquely Mexico

A contrast in Worlds

Eventually the land had its own language

Michael Hager, "Man of La Manga" seeing the bigger picture

Click this pic to go to "Children of La Manga"
......this picture leads to another story in Mexico Fishing Village

LA MANGA  fishing village MEXICO early 2005 

The Man of La Manga!


Ariba! He appears again.


There had been about a 5-year gap when i actually had not heard the voice or even knew with any certainty the location or whereabouts of Michael Hager or his wife Sherry.


I knew by his own accounts sometime prior to September 1998, Michael had made a fateful decision, which would supplant for all practical purposes the normal freedoms the average American would enjoy. It would change his course of involvements with those that loved and were close to him, his family and two sons, but it was also not mis-cast, nor was it not inevitable.


It would lead to a period of an underground lifestyle for over 5 years. Where we had once "made a run for the border" for Tacos, Michael had made a literal dash, in hopes of Old West Predecessors before him. Gone South, escaping into the Mexico badlands, via Nogales, Arizona and a cautious if not surreptitious life.


As Michael had recounted to me sometime early in 1998 he had made a decision perhaps consistent with one who had not fully forsaken the momentums and exceptions to living within "legitimate" means to acquire compensations. His choice of "services" were ones, which many of almost equal creativity and disdain for secular disciplines have taken. Living in Arizona, its proximity to its own environment of entrepreneurial endeavors, Michael attached himself again to the risky and rewarding? World of transporting Marijuana. It might have been the low road to those of righteousness looking in and for Michael Hager, already 50; he had no reason to claim inexperience or lack of wisdom. It was and always is about choice, especially when any of us become enamored to the apparent "ease" and access such opportunities afford.


As, it has been with Michael, almost wondrously and maddeningly so, he paid a hard price, his unfoldment as follows, also includes his paradoxical Nature to find purpose and be a recipient of great graces and bear hardships.


Still it is the story of the human and the divine, not intended to be opposing forces, but certainly if not oddly playing out in the landscape of free will and providence...and eventually, the "Man of La Manga." was born. 


Michael, quite characteristically was easily able to embellish about himself and his experiences. He told me he had fallen for a "ploy" at a DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency) checkpoint on a Missouri Highway, advising of an ahead stopping, which inspired those with contraband, to make uncertain decisions.


Michael's reasoning to pull over at the "previous" exit, played right into, the agency designs to dupe the "guilty" one (holding) to such a precise action.


Sure enough, they were waiting, Michael commenting, the drug sniffing dog started to do a "Mexican hat dance" around their rented truck full of and secreted with 150 lbs of illegal contraband.


Michael, i had already know by picking him up from a Tucson County Jail once for some minor offense was hardly inclined to Prison. In fact, that night i went to get him in Tucson, he did not even wait for me at the Jail, preferring to flee and amble in the night on his immediate release. I found him, gasping and nervously running alongside an unlighted road. Hardly, a picture of a accommodating or matter of fact business as usual prisoner. I knew this bust would put him on the ropes and in drastic measures. 


As indicated, Michael himself assessed his circumstances and had made a decision to elude authorities and avoid attempts to prosecute him. Unknowing of any real plan to speak of, he took refuge in one of Arizona's lake regions and camped out, and even there, narrowly missing apprehension.


Back, in Tucson, he had also only been moments and literally several feet from being captured, federal Marshals, bounty authorities and one's inner aversions and fears soon catapulted him to seek the outlaw's haven and hope for some type of life on the run. Fortunately, Hispanic and fluent in the language, Mexico was a had to go, geographical.


No mere Border town would suffice, Michael had learned of the coastal towns and villages of San Carlos on the Gulf of Mexico and 300 miles from the border.


On arriving in San Carlos, bereft of much currency and raining conditions with no place to go, Michael with Sherry parked in their recently purchased older used Van alongside Hotel Fiesta in San Carlos. As their "luck" would have it, they were waken up by locals who informed them, they had to leave, " a hurricane" was coming.


As is often the case when we most need it, without trying to judge Michael's circumstances, mercy and intervention comes in the helping assistance and overtures of others. Such as it became, Michael was informed of a nearby stretch of ocean, known as the fishing village of La Manga, where groups of Mexican Nationals and families had carved out their livelihoods and home fronts in makeshift living quarters, vehicles and tents. In other words, a place Michael and Sherry could fit right in.


One thing that was a credit to Michael and Sherry, and certainly an asset in this situation was their almost complete willingness to live amongst, and thrive in communal and cooperative environments. Michael was very endearing to people and could make do, as Sherry also, in circumstances and with few resources, in ways that most people would become dismayed by.


Here, in the humble and relenting sanctuary of La Manga, Michael quickly was accepted by the community of families and actually became an advocate and organizer, even a representative of the Village in local matters.


Mexico is one of those places that can absorb a man's past and if you can embrace and liken yourself to its culture it can quickly and easily make you one of its own. That was no more true than here in La Manga and what began as a haven, had lovingly befallen to Michael, Sherry and at least one of their sons, home and in a larger sense loving, nurturing community. Here Michael, may have been openly known as, "EL Renegado" (the renegade) but had come to represent the hopes of these people, their advocate and in his own heart had found rest, safety and a true purpose.


Michael and Sherry would spend 5 years in that Village and while Michael discovered renewal and won hearts over as his was also softened, he must of had a measured type peace.


For he knew, as all who have lived with the uncertainty, the possibility that some type of disagreement, some form of an enemy or dislike, even a remote encounter, could come at any moment, could dislodge him, and lead to an unraveling and yet..... He remained.


I have had the perspective that while Mike, may have seemingly eluded some "sentence," he was certainly "serving,".... to, much good in La Manga. Only in magnificent complexities that higher mind can see, does the true and just unfoldment of God's purposes outplay itself. Where can any of us sit and evaluate the rightness and season of another's merits or justice. Though, i knew nothing of Uncle Mike's doings for those silent years, i would occasionally offer up my prayer and let my thoughts soar to him, missing his flame and spirit, though not relinquishing his presence.


Little, did i know God and Universal mind had perfect presence to place Michael, precisely where he could serve and be served most. How perfect is thy plan, how amiss we humans can be in our knowing, how great is our need in understanding.




Five years had gone by for Michael and Sherry and as much loved as they were in La Manga, they were Americans. They loved their freedom and for all its beauty the shore kissed Village of La Manga offered, they were in an exile of their own making. Soon the currents of life would come, and upturn their lives again.


Word would come through their youngest son, Josh, back in Tucson that the U.S Attorney had sent an official letter indicating, courts had determined the seizures and arrests, brought about through DEA checkpoints were invalid. The searches were deemed unconstitutional. Those arrested, incarcerated for, or under indictment for, were to be freed or have their charges dismissed.

Michael was for all practical purposes a free man again.


An amazing turn of events and an almost completely rare occurrence and Michael, after having to get over that it was a ruse, a government trap could experience an unbelievable sense of relief and grace. Even so, more completely compelling circumstances and personal challenges would await his tired and tested soul.


In a way Michael's life was a clearing to the return to the borders of the North.


U.S. soil, freedoms renewed, families in both directions, he must have felt almost supremely confident, he too had earned his keep in the desert and it had sent him back free, he was unencumbered, even Victorious and yet he was carrying within him yet another axe to bear.


It was about this time, i had finally received that call i knew would eventually come, 5 years since i last spoke with him, i heard the voice on my cell under

an awning garage in South Lake Tahoe. It was Michael. "Heffe?," i said to his confirming response and knowing him like i did it was not really any surprise.


He had splashed back on the scene; his announcements were bittersweet in the truest sense between friends. He had offered as only Michael can, that he had emerged from a life on the lam with a fantastic occurrence of Karmic grace, he was free and on the other, that he had been diagnosed with stage 4 inoperable throat cancer. 


Michael, after all this time had the side by side helpings of vindication and something I can't even describe and yet to me he was expressing himself as i always knew him, compassionate and self revealing.


I knew with Michael, in spite of what was happening to him, he had much to share. There was still adventure in his voice; he would not just give himself over to any conventional sense of diagnosis. I would learn, he would go after and embrace every inexhaustible means to assist himself. He was after all, a counterculturalist. He was also calling us, to come and be before him and i knew with Michael, traveling across the desert was all that would suffice. 


Upon seeing Michael, he quickly leveled a first launch upon my graying hair and told me, i was an old man, as he held out to hug me. That was like Mike also, he might have been on the ropes, but he was never shy or unreservered about lobbing, his grenades into the barracks of your persona, testing you and yet very welcoming and grateful for your presence.


He certainly still had the "spirit" i knew in him.


This whole experience in La Manga, Mexico seemed to consume him, in spite of his regimen of alternative therapies and diet, his energy and life force elevated when he spoke of his experiences and role to the people at the fishing village.


It was obvious Michael was intent on getting a party of his friends to go back to La Manga with him. I was probably the most reluctant, probably because i must have some past life aversion to even being in Mexico, but overcoming that and "sharing" in my friends’ wishes was well enough..


Clearly, Michael's energy and anticipation increased as we made the long (it seemed) journey to San Carlos. I traveled with a Doctor, a friend of Michael's from Tucson and a Youth Probation officer, from Santa Cruz, Calif in one vehicle as we followed Michael, his wife Sherry and son Mike.


We certainly played the part of somewhat soft American's as we lamented about the length of the drive and the frequency we seemed to be getting "shaken down" for increasing toll costs as we traveled deeper. Finally, we did arrive later at night and i myself felt unimpressed, having difficulty being this far immersed in Mexican soil.  


We did get to the following day, to the Village of La Manga, where Michael had become so fully integrated with and was obvious he was hardly removed.


It may have been a complete makeshift community on a beautiful shore along the Gulf of Mexico, but Michael was clearly in his element. He would drive in his Bronco, stopping it seemed at every home or hut, to greet, embrace and visit with the people there. All of them seemed equally pleased and in joy to see him.


It reminded me of how Indians viewed the way of the white man and how Michael was living in the way of the human being.


Indians would say, "The White Man, greets everyone, stops for no one." I knew what that meant now, watching Michael, get out of his vehicle each time, somebody noticed or waived to him. We must have taken hours to drive through the small stretch the Village encompassed.


I could see why Michael and his family had become transformed by this land and its people. You kind of surrendered into the peace and blend of ocean, mountain and sky. It serenaded the soul and drew you inside to a more simple, less crazy way of being.


Michael had told me he served as an "interpreter" and found initial favor with the village families helping to speak on behalf and negotiate for the people living there.


In fact, Michael eventually became positioned to "broker" the sale of "hectares" or 2.45-acre parcels of land on behalf of the stakeholders. He had experience from his stint in the services as a medic and had helped the community there as well as doing what he could to modernize supplies for their fishing vocations.


Michael, spoke over and again of his visionary hopes he held for this Village, its people and its lands. Obviously, it was a great grace and find for Michael to be placed in an opportunity to be able to find such purpose and receive such great love.


I began to wonder why Michael did not decide to move back here and live, so clearly was the benefit of living in balance of serving and needed, the beauty and simplicity of life here and the people.


Michael, confided to me, he felt equally desiring to be near his son Josh's family and grandchild back in Tucson and if that had not been the case he would be here in La Manga.


Either way, Michael had showed us and shared with each of us there what was so special to him and something words cannot do. Even greater was seeing Michael finding his Joy and Peace and the eagerness he met with each step he took on that shore, each time he draped his arm around these easily loving and accepting souls, each time he dropped of a toy, he had brought for the Village children.


It was a good match, a divine match if you would. Circumstances may have put unknown forces in play, but it brought out the best in Michael. I think we really glimpsed into the true nature of Michael's spirit, the desire of his soul. I think he knew he found it there also. There is an inner home and a heavenly home and here in this humble community of people Michael might have known both. He did what he always tries to do...to share it with others. Thank You, Michael!

Note: Michael Hager has already lived through much greater projections than medical doctors have assigned to his situation. He is obviously a remarkable lifestream, desring to fulfill his reason for being. We ask that you include him in your prayers, healing calls and Violet Flame for the greatest assistance, mitigation and opportunity for his life by the grace and will of God.
If you would like to contact him and send some words of encouragement and inspiration, please e-mail him at:  m-hager@comcast.net