Lourdes Mint's Mid-Life Miracle

Real-time memoir of the coming year (5/20/14 – 15) and the achievement of a life-long dream

“Drafts” are the new “so?”



[Please excuse me for choosing my own blog. Felt like something I needed to do today.]

*I have 57 drafts and only 38 (39 now, actually) “published” … things. So? What is a published thing anyway, for many of us, but a draft that has somehow tripped the system, slipped through our over-zealous, ultra-self-censoring, hyper-critical inner critic? Anyway, here’s one that slipped through.


38 published, 57 drafts, and my blog’s goal’s

“Due date” has gone by, so by, that I

No longer see clearly the [X] on the horizon. (That dot that was my goal.)


But I look often. Things I’ve seen:

A fallen tree, an empty house, a man walking, hands in pockets, and a

Windmill, still. Once, I saw a fox with a rabbit in its mouth!

That was my favorite.


Today, though, I don’t know. Can’t make it out.

But, oh!, I know it just moved … closer no less. Or was it me, toward it? (Ha! Noooo.)

I’ve been moving lots lately but not in that direction. I’ve been wishing lots too that it —  my goal, that dot — would come to me, for me, at me,

Any way it wants, with or without rabbit. I’ll take it! But I know. I know. I’ve always known.


And I’m actually accepting the “failure,” for now, have taken my hands from the throat of she who failed. (I need her: me.)

And with that grip loosened, I see her becoming beauty-full again, feel laughter pushing up through her throat (words to follow?), eyes opening wide once more, synapses (many? most? all?) firing up, firing one another up,

Stretching out to meet, connect, grab hold, and go. Someplace new. Again and again!


So I’ll stop looking for that leaf that wasn’t loosed when fall came early this year, a guest of spring and now summer and soon to be master of the house.

The sun has said go ahead: stop. God, I’ve heard, likes (loves) me after all — no matter what I say or (don’t) do. I hear someone, many, saying, “rest.”

And yet: that dot, my goal. Can’t wash the (imagined) taste of rabbit from my mouth.

And yet, there was nothing here before and now:

38 published, 57 drafts, and me.

We’re still here. I have my crown.




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15 thoughts on ““Drafts” are the new “so?”

  1. Hi Lourdes. Just published the poem I wrote to your quote. It’s kind of strong…Thanks for the quote! http://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/08/17/science-and-politics-at-the-redneck-bar-quotation-challenge-5/

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “A fallen tree, an empty house, a man walking, hands in pockets, and a

    Windmill, still. Once, I saw a fox with a rabbit in its mouth!That was my favorite.”

    each one is a poem in itself, but the fox. Oh yes the fox. It is already in process. Don’t be so critical of yourself. Don’t doubt. It’s already all speeding toward you. All you have to do is catch it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, today and every time! You always know what to say. And I love that I think/feel you mean it too … and, better, that you might see and know things still fuzzy to me now. You know, the fox is out in the yard now, looking up at my window but only every now and then. It knows I can’t (or presumes I won’t) go chasing after it now, but one of these days that fox will look away and then look up again, after yawning or something, and I’ll be gone — out the door on speeding toward it! 🙂


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