I can’t help but wonder, how many miracles fail to actualize, simply because we are unwilling experience our feelings instead of us repressing them. Could it be possible that the miracle that we are waiting for is standing right outside our choice to express our feelings freely.
“Go to the office right now!”, he yelled at me. His faced radiated with redness, as his voice embodied the rage he held inside. There was no doubt that he was angry, and I, a mouthy-relentless-teenager was the object of his anger. “Get out!”, he yelled again, as he pointed his finger to the doors of gym.
As I walked away, I began to think about experiences that I’ve had since childhood. As a 3rd generation Mexican-American, I could only dream of people embracing my cultural uniqueness….
