Imperfection

By a self proclaimed perfectionist

Yeesh. I just tried to re-read my last post and I immediately found a typo. Can you believe there are people out there reading random things I am writing on the internet? The Substack counter tells me there are people reading this. It’s shocking.

So today I am going to give a hot-take on imperfection. I was going to write an ode to my adorable work-husband because I’m going on my leave from day job this week (*gasp*!) but maybe I will do that next week.

Instead, I am going to focus on the task at hand: how I’m still learning to embrace imperfection.

This is an especially important skill to learn as a writer - because every time I reread something I’ve written, I always think to myself: I should’ve written it better.

But the truth is all of us can write it better. From that email, to that case brief. If we all look hard enough, we will always find the imperfection in ourselves and by extension our writing. This is why I am learning that writing - while largely solitary - is actually meant to be done by at least two people. The writer, and the editor. The editor has fresh eyes. The editor can help you fix your imperfections. But even then, imperfections will continue to exist. We are all just evolving drafts of our previous selves. Often if you put a piece of writing down and come back to it, you’ll have discovered that you’ve changed, and because of that, you are reading your writing with a new lens.

The thing is, perfection is the pursuit of some permanent state. A thing that is perfect, is by definition not evolving. Because it’s perfect.

But to chase that is probably the most Sisyphean thing one can do. Perhaps you can capture it for a brief moment - but everything in this world is constantly changing - be it measured in ice ages or in milliseconds. Everything is always changing. So imperfection - is the natural state of the the universe.

This means that while I would love to continue to edit my Torts book, or continue to rewrite things I’ve written ad infinitum, it’s quixotic to do so. So here, in all it’s imperfection, is a post that is probably full of errors. A piece of writing that I will surely reread one day and think “Lord Jesus Christ, what was I smoking when I wrote this”. But there-in lies the beauty of it. That all this imperfection, is on some grand scale: utter perfection.

ps. yes I went back and reread this post and yes I found errors and yes I couldn’t help correcting them…