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  • Men healing – Round 2

    • June 26, 2025
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    • May 30, 2025
  • Growth takes time!

    • May 14, 2025
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    • April 25, 2025
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    • July 2, 2023

    Leaders going bad!

    It only takes one person to make a real stand and bring about change within a system. It has been,...
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    • June 22, 2024

    The Forgotten Art of Navigation

    The global positioning system (GPS) has spoiled us. How many people today could navigate effectively using a map? I can,...
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    • September 26, 2024

    Your vote is NOT your voice!

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    • August 5, 2024
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Wakime Hauser's Blog

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Wakime Hauser's Blog

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Men healing – Round 2

Wakime HauserJune 26, 20253,683 Leave a comment

After last year’s unforgettable experience in Vermont for the first-ever Men’s Health Retreat, I knew this second gathering would be something special. But what I didn’t anticipate was how much deeper it would take root in my soil and…

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Shades of a Man (Podcast)

For those who’ve been following my journey, reading my blogs, sharing my words, reflecting…

Wakime Hauser May 30, 2025
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Growth takes time!

I wasn’t always the man I am today. In fact, for a long time,…

Wakime Hauser May 14, 2025
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Men’s deserve to heal

It was a cold, rainy Saturday morning, and my schedule was already stacked. But…

Wakime Hauser April 25, 2025
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50 years deep!

I was driving Uber the other day, heading from Avon down to Foxwoods Casino.…

Wakime Hauser April 10, 2025
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  • Books, Fashion, Life Style, Life Style, Photograph
  • November 24, 2024

Talking Art!

While catching up with a friend and a business associate this weekend in New London Ct, I had the distinct pleasure of meeting and chatting with some unbelievable individuals. For those unfamiliar with New London, it is a unique town that lolls beside the Thames River. My first destination was Flavours for Life. However, I was en route to Jeffery’s Barbershop. I ended up at the one on Elm Street because I was unaware that the owner owned multiple shops, and I just put the shop’s name in the GPS. I was supposed to be going to the one on Banks Street. When I finally arrived on Banks Street, I could see the view of the water to my right, which was adjacent to the railroad tracks. It immediately drew visualizations of a working-class American city 50 years ago and beyond when ports and railroads were our country’s primary sources of transporting goods. I appreciated the historic appeal of this street as I drove down it and said to myself Bank St. It must have been the place to make money at some point, and this town is trying to savor that vibe. My friend Kevin greeted me with a,...
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  • October 29, 2024

Strong men can be loving too!

The Strength in Being Tender Today, I overheard a man telling a young boy that he was “too tender” with a girl, like tenderness was something to be ashamed of, something weak. I couldn’t shake it, because I’ve lived that same lie. I’ve carried it, embraced it, and paid for it in ways that still haunt me. As a young boy, I was taught—by my uncle’s, my cousin’s, and the culture around me—that being a man meant having many women. Being a player was the goal, the badge of honor. To have one woman? To be tender with her? That was for the soft-hearted, the weak. And I let that false idea shape me, lead me, guide my choices—until those choices shaped my life, and not in the way I imagined. I think back to my high school love. I was all in. My heart only wanted her—my girl, my wife. That was the dream, the vision I had. But my mind, twisted by the lies I was fed, convinced me otherwise. I walked away from something real to chase an illusion, to be free for women who never showed up. And the one who did? She wasn’t the one.,...
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  • February 12, 2024

Wooden Spoon

The humble wooden spoon, a utensil often underestimated yet possessing remarkable longevity if cared for properly. I’ve used the same wooden spoon in my kitchen for over five years, a testament to its resilience in a sea of discarded and broken counterparts. But beyond its culinary utility, the wooden spoon serves as a metaphor for the trajectory of wealth and mindset. In the hierarchy of spoons, the wooden spoon signifies a transition—a precarious balance between the single-use plastic spoon and the royal silver one. It symbolizes the legacy we leave behind, whether it be tangible assets like homes and businesses or intangible wealth such as wisdom and values. While some are born into privilege, wielding silver spoons from the start, many begin with humble beginnings, clutching plastic spoons that signify struggle and scarcity. Yet, the path to wooden spoon status lies not solely in inheritance but in mindset and determination. It’s about leveraging opportunities, making prudent choices, and transcending circumstances. Contrary to popular belief, true wealth isn’t merely measured by material possessions. It’s a mindset—a conscious decision to live within one’s means, invest wisely, and cultivate financial resilience. I’ve encountered individuals who, despite earning substantial incomes, live paycheck to paycheck,,...
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  • April 11, 2024

Dear love, I am afraid (book)

Imagine an open wound in the deepest part of your heart, without ever healing a dull rusty razor blade pushed upward into the raw scar tissue. On occasion salt is sprinkled all over this organ like a southern meal. Then it is wrapped tightly in a cast as if it were a broken arm. Puss and fluid drip slowly and consistently. That heart is inside the king of the jungle, A LION with the mindset of an eagle and the saveness of a fox. Severely wounded and left in the wilderness to survive. DEAR LOVE, I AM AFRAID
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  • June 5, 2023

Men Matter

Growing up to this day I am faced with one consistent question. What is your nationality? I have been asked if I was Jamaican, Dominican, Mixed black and white, Puerto Rican and mixed Puerto Rican and black to name a few. I was always told that I was black. I believed this most of my young life. I recall in 5th or 6th grade doing a family tree. My father directed me to my grandfather and he gave me a history dating back to the early 1800’s. This information was accompanied with stories. I really felt like I knew my fathers side of the family. As a child we had family reunions and I would meet relatives from all over the United States. My great aunt’s and uncles would display so much pride in their heritage. My Grandfather was from the south and experienced racism in a different way then I did as a kid and adult. He was not fond of white folk, but always informed me that my family had white blood. It was not very clear to me the source of the white blood but I understood it as a woman had kids and may have even,...
Recent Posts
  • Men healing – Round 2

    • June 26, 2025
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    Shades of a Man (Podcast)

    • May 30, 2025
  • Growth takes time!

    • May 14, 2025
  • Men’s deserve to heal

    • April 25, 2025
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