Introducing Illegible Reflections
I have now been writing Point of Departure monthly since August 2024. Thanks for subscribing and I hope that you find my writing valuable. When I started posts were published monthly and each was about 2,000 words. Most of these were on Christian conversion and they took ~60 hours to write. I am entering a stage of life where this is too difficult.
I consider myself to be a professional generalist, with interests that exceed theology (my typical writing theme). I’ll continue to write about this, but I’m doing to start putting out some shorter pieces on various topics. It will be like throwing all kinds of things against the wall to see what sticks.
Starting today, I will be writing more often more likely 2-3 times per month. Each post will be shorter. They will be serialized pieces that could easily be included into a larger essay in the future. They will be grouped under the heading “Illegible Reflections.”
If this slight change in direction is not what you’re interested in, I won’t be offended if you choose to unsubscribe.
Illegible Reflection #1
I want to be an illegible writer.
I started my Substack in August of 2024 with a handful of subscribers who were my friend.
I didn't have a niche
I wanted to become a strong writer
I wanted to connect with other writers
I wanted my questions answers
so, I'm trying to write in public.
I titled my publication Point of Departure; that's where I was: in process, in transition, trying to find a place to stand.
Illegibility defined is handwriting that is not readable. We could extend this meaning to include much more.
Letters too small to read, like you're ashamed.
Fast handwriting that is not uniform, scrawling off the page like your ideas.
Words erased and rewritten over, to find just the right one.
Excessive words, trimmed for clarity.
Flowery scripts, unreadable because you need to expand your knowledge.
A person wandering right now!
Henrik Karlsson, my favorite writer on Substack, suggests that to be illegible is good place to be. In one essay he says that you should surround yourself with an audience that is interested in "...the process of you. People who will encourage and enable the searching, creative, illegible you of today, rather than the polished you of your past achievements."
In another essay he says, "If you figured out something that made you ecstatic, that is what you should write...you also write as much useful detail and beauty as you can muster.."
This is an uncomfortable, beautiful place to be. It's where I am right now.
Maybe you're there, too.
This whole idea is captured in a little poem I wrote…
Point of Departure: A Poem
To write is to depart from a point and
go forward,
More like a series of splintering rays than a single line.
To write is to be illegible,
To be in process.
Yet I must not assume that to depart is never to arrive,
As though truth and accuracy have no value.
To be illegible is not to deny that to be written in stone is better,
but who knows when that will be?
To depart finds its telos in arrival,
to arrive is meaningless without departure.
So to depart and be illegible is to be human,
now.