I’m reading this amazing book by Luis Rodriguez.   I’m taking my time with this one. Like one might savor each bite of a rich meal, I am taking time to mull over each chapter, each challenge.

I first encountered this author a few years ago when I stumbled upon his memoir, Always Running, a poignant and provocative account of his la vida loca–his life inside gangs in East LA during his adolescence. I was captivated by his writing and the stark honesty with which he wrote. More importantly however, my passion for working with such troubled youth was emboldened.

A few months ago during a peruse around Amazon.com, I came across my current reading selection. As the cover proclaims, Hearts and Hands provides “a powerful, insightful and healing response to the troubles of our times…all from a grassroots perspective.” I find my heart racing faster when I read this book, for within its pages is what I have adopted as a kind of how-to manual for how I want to approach my work with kids in the juvenile system.

One of the most exciting aspects of this read is that I find so many of the ideas and theories I have collected and concocted on my own are completely affirmed and promoted in Rodriguez’s work. It is an incredible feeling to be validated in such an authentic way. He is the real deal–this man has lived in the grip of gangs and knows first-hand the hustle and flow of the streets. Furthermore, he has dedicated his life to mentoring, teaching and challenging youth to fight for hope and for healing.

I have so many reflections I could and may write, but for now I contemplate this quote,

“Police, therapists, teachers, lawyers–they’ve all become ‘professional,’ and in the process many of them have lost the ‘dreaming’ that first brought them to their particular callings. Unfortunately too often they discourage dreaming in our children and youth. To have peace, we have to get back to this dreaming, to the original pull of our passions, to the spirit that brought us into these lines of work in the first place. An important aspect of elders is that they too have passions, fire and dreams–only they have them largely for others, while young people have them largely for themselves” –Rodriguez, 94.

When I first read this, I literally sat up and became keenly focused on what he was about to say–after all, I was specifically called out by profession in that list…and second in the list. I’ve read this quote about 20 times; I’ve written it on cards and post-its and journal pages; and I’m writing it here out loud for the world as a plea for accountability. One of my biggest fears is losing sight of my dream, of forgetting my first love, of growing complacent, of giving in to feelings of overwhelmedness or defeat…okay, that was more like five biggest fears!

I think it can be easy for we who are dreamers to forget the seed which began the whole dream and to forget the butterflies and the quickened pulse we felt when we first conceived our dream. Soon the memory of that first passion has faded and has been buried under the dust of what seems to be the more sensible, practical, affordable, accomplishable, not-so-painful undertakings of life. Maybe we talk ourselves out of it, “It really was a pretty perposterous idea to begin with…” Maybe we grew weary, “My knuckles are bloody from knocking on doors that refuse to open…” Maybe we our hearts became sick while hope was deferred. I think any or all of the above is common fare for any passionate dreamer.

Its been said before and continues to be repeated because of its truth, the difference between mere ideas scribbled on napkins and celebrating ribbon cuttings & ground-breakings is one’s steadfast commitment to “Never give up”–on ourselves, on our dreams, or on the One for whom nothing is impossible.

I challenge you to remember your first love, your first passion, your first dream–what is it? Where is that vision? Is it crumpled up on some half-used napkin? Or is it the very life that courses through your soul each day marking out and motivating your journey?