Wakime Hauser's Blog – Just another WordPress site

Men healing – Round 2
- June 26, 2025
Shades of a Man (Podcast)
- May 30, 2025
Growth takes time!
- May 14, 2025
Men’s deserve to heal
- April 25, 2025

- Uncategorized
- May 3, 2024
Family growth

When do we lose the inhibition to question everything we do not know or understand? As a young boy, I,...
- Uncategorized
- March 27, 2023
Half a Mint

I had to be about 20, maybe 21 years old. I don’t remember the exact year or day. I believe,...

- Uncategorized
- November 28, 2023
Vodka, Seltzer and lime
BLACK numbers MATTER!
- December 11, 2023

Men healing – Round 2

Wakime HauserJune 26, 20255,074 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…

Shades of a Man (Podcast)

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

Growth takes time!

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

Men’s deserve to heal

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

50 years deep!

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

1
2
3
10
20
...
Last

Uncategorized
May 14, 2025

Growth takes time!

I wasn’t always the man I am today. In fact, for a long time, I was the exact opposite of who I said I wanted to become. I was a college basketball player who quit—more than once. I was the student who rarely showed up to class. I was a man who ran toward lust and away from anything that looked like a real relationship. I had children in situations I shouldn’t have been in, continuing the broken family cycles I came from instead of breaking them. And despite knowing I was called for something greater, I ran from God—again and again—even when I saw progress, even when I felt that gentle tug on my heart. I’ve hit rock bottom so many times, I lost count. But one day, I made a promise. A simple one: I would never get arrested again. And while life had its own sense of humor and I was later arrested for something as ridiculous as not walking my dog on a leash—yes, that happened—I didn’t quit on myself. Because the promise wasn’t really about avoiding arrest. The promise was about showing up every day to be better than I was the day before. It,...

Uncategorized
March 31, 2025

Letting go

For decades, I walked around carrying extra weight on my shoulders. This weight was added day by day. I became strong, which has allowed me to be in the positions I am in today. Along with this strength came a lack of empathy and vulnerability. Looking at my environment and what I was taught, I have learned to accept all the negative impacts as I have received the positives. The weight I was carrying around came with pain, trauma, and loss. I held this pain inside me and could feel it with each beat of my heart. The rhythm was fierce and unpredictable because, at any time, a demon within could be awakened. As my weight grew, I began to move faster and work harder. I avoided the reality that I had become numb, and I was the happiest, miserable person I knew. There was a time when I believed I could conquer the world alone. I was a superhero. I was iron. I have learned that superheroes are not real, and men break, too! As a man with grown kids, I have realized I have a long road ahead to become the person I want to be. By the,...

Uncategorized
June 18, 2023

Family (The kitchen table)

Listening to my grandfather’s captivating stories, I found myself yearning to experience the vivid world of his childhood. It was an era influenced by the KKK and the challenging lifestyle of sharecropping, yet my grandfather’s stories also incorporated the wonders of television and technological gadgets from the 70s, 80s, and 90s—elements he himself lived without. As a child, one of the most enlightening questions I asked him was about the impact of the Great Depression on his life. His response was simple: he didn’t realize there was an economic crisis at the time. While money held some importance, his family valued land and livestock even more. He explained that they could go days, even weeks, without spending any money. Survival meant planting and slaughtering their own food, cutting down trees for heating and cooking, and not even contemplating the luxury of air conditioning. Money was reserved for purchasing fabric, tools, and other essentials for their daily lives. My grandfather had only completed eighth grade, yet he was the most intelligent person I had ever spent time with, surpassing even my own academic achievements as I pursued my dissertation to become Dr. Hauser. Family was the cornerstone of his life—a value,...

Uncategorized
March 27, 2024

Brown Paper Bag

Reflecting on childhood memories often brings to mind simpler times, like the excitement of packing a favorite lunchbox for school. For me, it was a toss-up between my Superman and Hulk lunchboxes – iconic symbols of my youthful enthusiasm. Do you recall your cherished lunch containers? The tradition of packing lunches might seem like a relic from the past, especially in today’s fast-paced world. Yet, I can still vividly recall the care my mother took in preparing my midday meal. Deli sandwiches were a staple, adorned with a choice of condiments – mustard for liverwurst, ham, and bologna, and mayo for roast beef and turkey. However, nothing could surpass the timeless appeal of a classic peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The jelly flavor was inconsequential; it was the creamy peanut butter that always won my heart. When a warm meal was on the cards, my mother’s ingenious solution was Campbell’s chicken noodle soup or Chef Boyardee, packed snugly in an insulated canister to keep it piping hot until lunchtime. While my school offered hot lunches every Friday – a treat I reserved for occasions like meatball grinders or pizza – I mostly stuck to the home-packed goodness. Trading snacks with,...

Life Style
March 19, 2023

Back Yard Buddy

When my family moved to Greenwich CT in 1983, it was a culture shock to me. My entire life I had been called a white boy and now, for the first time, I wasn’t. In this new environment, I was vividly different. It wasn’t just the color of my skin. It was the core values that I was brought up with. In my opinion, I was raised to be tough outside of my home and submissive and obedient inside. I was trained to live a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde life. In Mount Vernon and the Bronx, NY, this lifestyle was accepted as normal because most of the kids I knew had similar expectations in and outside of their homes. Where I was coming from it was normal to see one of your friends get beaten in public. Greenwich was different, I mean REALLY different. For the first time in my life I saw kids talk back to their parents. They listened in school. However, they took their frustrations out on their parents. This was not true for everyone. However I had never seen a kid talk back to their parents when I moved to Greenwich. I mean I saw,...

Men healing – Round 2
- June 26, 2025
2
Shades of a Man (Podcast)
- May 30, 2025
Growth takes time!
- May 14, 2025
Men’s deserve to heal
- April 25, 2025