Cancer – Mark Wayne – Author and Warrior

Do you believe the BULL$^!+ LIES?

April 7, 2022April 6, 2022 Mark Wayne

Re-sharing a poem I wrote back in 2017 that provided some momentum and clarity as I was beginning to seriously contemplate and pursue writing my memoir 𝘾𝙤𝙬𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙎𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝘾𝙧𝙮.

I struggled for over twenty years hiding my pain, my sorrow, and my grief over her death. I moved forward as we are told to do thinking it could never be what it once was.

“I was wrong!“

Through the unconditional love of God, a good woman (my wife), my daughter and others I came to believe that my life after was really up to me. I have learned that happiness is a choice and my grief I carry but it does not hold me back. Learning that real men have emotions, tears, and yes, they sometimes cry. That doesn’t make us weak.

It’s a bull$^!+ lie that men don’t cry. Sometimes there are no tears falling from our eyes yet, our hearts are weeping and no one sees.

If you’d like to read more of my story of loss, grief, and healing you can order your print or e-book copies at the following:

Here’s to healing and a life after trauma. I will be releasing online courses soon as well as opportunities to work with me as coach in both group and one-on-one settings. Sign up for my email list to get the latest updates and God bless! 👊

Are you believing the lies?

It’s a bull$^!+ lie that men don’t cry. Sometimes there are no tears falling from our eyes yet, our hearts are weeping and no one sees. #Grief #Healing #LifeAfter
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Grief, Life, Photograph

Wordless Wednesday – #66

April 6, 2022April 5, 2022 Mark Wayne

God, Grief, Life, Writing

Cowboys Are Not Supposed to Cry – A Memoir

August 11, 2021 Mark Wayne

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝑫𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒊𝒕?

So excited, I received the first physical copies of my memoir and upcoming book today!

Shows me, the author, holding the first physical copy of my upcoming memoir - Cowboys Are Not Supposed to Cry — First physical copy of my upcoming book! (8/11/2021)

Thank you Jesus, and my family, and friends for all the love and support, and my publisher Christian Faith Publishing. The story of my journey carrying grief and healing will be soon be available. I pray it blesses and helps others dealing with the pain of loss.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝑫𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒊𝒕? #CowboysAreNotSupposedtoCry #Memoir #UpcomingBook #WritersLife #WickedQuestions
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Watch for a soon to be announced release date and opportunities to be part of the launch team!! This is how my story begins.

“𝐀𝐬 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞,…”

Life, Writing

Grief, Loss, Triggers and Other Stuff

November 4, 2017 Mark Wayne

I wrote this post with tears behind my eyes. Although they were wide open I squeezed them tight so that no one can see and nothing leaks out that would give away my feelings. Yes, I am hiding, but also writing. A frenzy of emotional free writing.

I am angry! I am sad! I am frustrated and …

My stomach is in knots, my muscles are tense. I feel the passion surging inside of me and I am afraid of it spilling out into a fit of rage. While my mind spins with questions that have no answers, for I long ago learned there are none.

Triggers come in all sorts of ways. A voice, a song, a memory, a word.

Maybe it’s just me as I read posts on social media encouraging others to ‘copy and paste’ in honor or remembrance of something or someone. Especially in honor of someone who is battling or has lost a battle with cancer with the hashtag #cancersucks or something.

This is my story, my reality and my life.

I lost someone to cancer many years ago and yes cancer sucks. Not a day goes by that something doesn’t remind me of her. When she died, she left a hole in my heart. I watched the traditional treatments wreck and devastate her body, mind and spirit. And in the end, it did nothing to prolong her life nor improve the quality of her life.

So, yes, I am jaded.

My experience may be vastly different from others. Yet, this is my story, not theirs and this is my voice that is screaming in the silence of unanswered questions. Nighttime skies as dark as death where stars twinkle on unconcerned and the cold vastness reveals no measure of comfort to assuage my pain and longing.

Posting in honor of someone, does nothing. Really, that’s the best you can do?

Be careful with your words, your images, your pictures and posts you share. Everyone experiences things differently. Triggers! No two people experience life in exactly the same way. There is no comfort in false words of hope and solace. We toss around platitudes like confetti in the wind, left to fall and be carried where they will. With no thought of those on the receiving end, intentional or not, will catch the true meaning of our hearts.

Yes, I am bitter. Yes, I am … hell I don’t know what I am.

I do know that I am strong and this will not defeat me. I will bang a drum for those we have lost and never assume to understand someone else’s experience and pain. For I never would expect the two to be the same. #JustBelieve #HopeLives

Life

Compassion is a Verb

January 25, 2015January 24, 2015 Mark Wayne

I encourage everyone to visit the site Cards of Hope and see how you can help to bring inspiration and happiness to people battling CANCER. Her mission touches me on a very personal level because of my own experiences (you can read about that on my about page if interested).Lacie created the site to bring inspiration and happiness to people battling CANCER. Cards of Hope was founded because of her experience staying with a friend, Pennie, who had terminal cancer. She was always looking for some glimmer of hope or joy in every day that she was alive. To quote Lacie, “Battling CANCER is a horrendous thing to have to go through, and I feel that if I can do anything to brighten a Cancer warrior’s day then I will do it.”

Cards of Hope functions on a purely donation basis. The following list is only a few of the many items needed that can help brighten a warrior’s day.

*envelopes
*cards
*stamps (They Always Need Stamps!)
*stickers
*paper
*gift cards
*coloring pages
*post cards
*bookmarks
*books
*crayons
*cross word puzzle books
*new stuffed animals
*construction paper

You can view more items that are needed here. You can also send money orders or checks for a donation. Remember compassion, kindness and love are verbs. They require action and you may actually experience the greater blessing by your giving.

In addition be sure to join the 1000 Voices for Compassion movement to flood social media with compassion on February 20, 2015. #1000Speak Together we can make a difference!

Art, Life, Writing

Something Completely Different!

July 9, 2014July 9, 2014 Mark Wayne

He quickly dried himself and tossed the towel aside. Wrapping the soft white bath robe around his waist he tied the belt around his waist making a knot in the front. He then exited the building into the warm afternoon sun. It seemed to be a normal spring day with the sun shining amongst billowy clouds floating across the canvas of a cerulean sky. He quickly spotted her standing a short distance away with her back to him. She was wearing a similar white bath robe and her long brown hair hung down over her shoulders. She appeared to be having a conversation with a man who he did not know seated in front of her in a lawn chair. The distance between her and the man appeared to be about two yards and he seemed to be listening intently.

He began to walk towards her and this stranger, covering the distance quickly as his instincts raised the hairs on the back of his neck. The area was the grounds of a campus of some sort with people milling about amidst numerous large brick buildings. As he drew closer in his approach to the two figures he heard her voice. She seemed to be replying in response to a question from the strange man. Others passed by ignoring them both.

Coming from behind she was unaware of his approach and his nearness allowed him to hear her say the word ‘cancer.’ At that moment her hands quickly untied the knot at her waist holding her bath robe closed. Grabbing both front seams she tore open the robe her arms outstretched to her sides. Shocked, he quickly covered the last few yards to where she was standing. Without hesitating he placed himself squarely between her and this man sitting there with an almost deliriously evil grin on his face. He was able to block the man’s view of her with his body. As he had moved to intersect the sight line between the two he was even more surprised to catch sight of bare skin and the swell of a breast. The realization that she was completely naked beneath the bath robe and had exposed herself to this strange man sent his mind into a free fall.

Catching his breath he quickly grabbed the edges of her robe and pulled them together to cover her nakedness. She did not resist and others passing by seemed not to notice. He then grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her away from the stranger. They began walking away as he guided her with his arm around her shoulders. As they walked, his legs felt as if he had just ran a marathon and only kept moving on instinct. His mind was reeling, his heart beating loudly in his chest. Minutes pass as they walk in silence before he is able to speak.

“What are you doing?” he asks incredulously trying to hide the anger and dismay. Her response is short and clipped with very little emotion, “You do not understand.”

“I do not understand?” he questions her.

“No, you do not,” she states simply.

She pauses before calmly adding, “I am the one dying.”

(This story came to me in a dream, I have written it down here verbatim from what I recalled the next morning upon waking. I have tried to add no extra details and if I have it is unintentional. The mind has dreams of its own, of which in the light of day the reasons behind the dreams are chased away with the rising of the sun. ~M)