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This is an empowerment blog written by life coach and strength trainer Yaromil Fong-Olivares for women and feminist allies who are committed to holistic healing, living, loving and most importantly: kicking ass.

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Body and Spirit


Arthur Waskow

A poem from my new favorite book Life Prayers

This past weekend, my sisters and I went up to Roxbury Motel (A fabulous bed and breakfast offering spa services and most importantly pop culture theme rooms...ours was the Shagadelic suite).  Our sole intention was to connect and practice self-healing and self-care.  That means we hiked, we talked for hours, we cried (at times simultaneously, at times individually), we laughed, we cuddled, we drank tequila, we drank water, we cooked, we drank champagne, we read each other's tarot cards and angel cards.  We loved, we accepted love.  We experienced vulnerability (Thanks Brenne Brown and Standing in Our Power), we saw each other fully.  WE ARE healing.  During morning prayers/meditations at my ancestral table I opened the book to this poem and want to share it with you.


In our own generation

we tremble on the verge of Flood.


The air is full of poison.

The rain, the seas, are full of poison.

The Earth hides arsenals of poisonous fire,

seeds of light surcharged with fatal darkness.

The ice is melting,

the seas are rising,

the air is dark with smoke and rising heat.


Who speaks for the redwood and the rock, the lion and the


Who are our Noahs?

Who can teach us to be "Restful-ones"?

Where is our Ark?

Who can renew the Rainbow?


What must we do to reaffirm

the covenant between the Breath of Life

and all who live and breathe upon this planet?


-Arthur Waskow


P.s. I suspect, we; collectively and co-actively must renew the rainbow.


March 11 

Para mi abuelita Esperaza~

Today is both the anniversary of my arrival in the United States 21 years ago and my grandmother's passing 5 years ago.  Both transitions continue to be fueled by pain and deep transformative energy.  As I welcome the day, I increasingly feel her love and warmth.  Today her lessons, her legacy and her life are in full display in front of my 31 year old body and soul, in front of my 10 year old gaze.  I feel protected, light, cherished, encouraged, loved; she always made me feel that way.  I feel her spirit all around me more than ever before.  I see her selling ice out of her refrigerator and then giving me the money for candy.  I see her sitting by the river; feeling the breeze and listening to the rhythm of the waves when she became older and blind. I see her pretending to bite babies' legs and asking me to join her.  I see her smiling when I refused then; and smiling when I do the same thing to babies now.  Today I honor beginnings and endings; I honor continuum and unconditional love.  I honor transition and cherish uncertainty.  I honor her by listening to her now; deeply and openly.  I honor her by engaging in open dialogue with her spirit and welcoming her push me to  to stay in a place of gratitude, deep growth and responsibility to her spirit's journey as it continues to unfold alongside my.


It's nice to feel her spirit and not question it. 


Let's Name You Memory

Let's name you Memory.

Let's give you finality,

Let's give you room to breathe,
air like wine 
and space like breeze.
Let's give you room to live,
to surrender;
to forgive.
Let's give you room to grow;
into fairy tale
or to become stale;
room to become
a lesson
to focus  less on
the parting details
and more on the glow
of the  love
we once reveled on
and are allowing to evolve.


Her pain was dormant,

like water sitting
after a windless night.
her pain,  dormant,
like inherited disease
pre-brewing coffee
and living bacteria
eats away, slowly,
big chunks.
Of flesh.
Flesh exposed.
Deep pain is new, unfamiliar,
unlike previous pain,
She is uneasy, unruly,
impossible to manage,
tempting to suppress.
It's a comforting pain inflicted with love
carelessly disguised with a glove
over ego, over reason.
It's irrational pain, based on feeling
subjectivity, history.
Rooted by untested and contested
A history so deep it can only become more painfully
more visceral.
And pain, dormant, deep, loving
feels unmanageable and right.
Pain necessary for growth;
this kind of growth
the growth in kindness
in kind
in courage
in love
that only comes from pain after it's become undone.

A Poem For Mami on my 31st Birthday

In a few days I'll be turning 31 (Dec. 18) and thus have been reflecting not on my life but on my birth and my gratitude for my mother and our very complicated, ever-evolving relationship.

Today My Journey is Finally A Party

A gratitude poem for my mother

Today my journey is finally a party
a part
of our parts
of her parts

of the free smiles she
anoints me to distribute
of the hugs she shared with me
after a long

Not prolonged hugs
not close-proximity hugs
but deep hugs, filled with tender
of healing
of a woman who never learned to touch
who hugged me for the first time when
I came back after my first 3 months in college
and maybe for the 4th time when my grandmother transitioned to the spirit world...
5 years later.

My mother doesn't hug I remember explaining to my first therapist
"Your mother rarely hugs," she said.

Over 10 years have passed since that first awkward adult hug
Over 10 years she got divorce; we shared pain.
I offered her love.
Then I got divorced, we shared resentment;
she gave me her deepest compassion.

We learned to see each other when we allowed ourselves
to fall apart/drift apart/ avoid each other/accept each other

Today she initiates, she lingers,
she gets close enough to let me feel her heart
and to let me fill her heart as it
beats with excitement.
She is still nervous about us, I think.
She misses me, I think.
She loves me.  I know.
She sees me.  I hope.

Today my journey is finally a party
Unequivocally a part of
Her pain seamlessly composted into memories,
the same memories we are
weaving  into stories,
birthing into wisdom.

Today my journey is finally a party
because although she rarely touched me,
she always moved me.
She imparts her wisdom through laughter.
Laughter fueled by a brief childhood
laughter filled with light
of light filled with brightness.
This light
she always had, she always wanted me to have.
This light I didn't always see, but always feel.
This light I was afraid to own.
This light pushed me out, far, across the country
across class, across race, across to a perfect landing in invisibility.
and still kept me grounded in evolution, and torpedoing through layers and layers of generational pain.

And like a yin and yang when the time came and I was brave again
This same light pulled me back in. Like I never left.
And although not every day; every moment we touch, we laugh,
we share the light
it pushes her
and it pulls me
like a pendulum moving within perfect imbalance
when we are both brave, even after brief absences
we hug.

And that hug filled with her light

our light

makes my journey a party
for her.
for them.
for us.

{Thank you for the gift of life, Mami Fong}


Hold on to Summer

Welcome back DI=VA!! 

Welcome back from Summer!!

The first day after vacation or holiday is always difficult.  A gentle reminder to hold on to your rejuvenation.


Yaromil Fong-Olivares is a certified life coach, fitness trainer and personal power blogger residing in New York City. If you want to achieve long-lasting happiness and success, contact her for coaching, training, writing, and speaking gigs at yaro@yaromilolivares.com.  To purchase my ebook THE HOLY GRAIL OF LIFE COACHING, click here