Stuckness

I've been working on a writing, or rather rewriting, project. And I am stuck. Which really doesn't surprise me. Why am I stuck, and why am I not surprised?

I'm not sure I can fully answer the first part of that question. It's deeply complex. Us humans, our hearts and minds, our relationships, our interpretations, our histories -- they are complex.

Part of my stuckness is in regard to memory. I realized the other week that I had disremembered at least a couple timeframes and the reasoning behind a decision I made way-back-when. But I also question that reremembrance of the disremembrance. Just how accurate is my reremembrance regarding my motivation way-back-then? But motivations can be layered; there can be multiple sides, some not in our conscience awareness.

How much might I be filtering? Memoir is not an autobiography. It captures the essence of given experiences and the narrator's view, even if some of the linear facts and details might be disremembered.

Another part of the why to the stuckness -- the past couple days, as I've been able to think more clearly due to my recent epidural treatment, I've come to acknowledge just how much more deeply the experiences of the years which I am revisiting probably affected me. That doesn't mean I've not realized that depth before. But maybe I'm now realizing, or better realizing, it on another level.

How do I allow myself to address that realization? How do I put it into words? How can approach it without becoming emotionally involved or engulfed? "Engulfed" seems too extreme of a word. "Involved" doesn't quite capture the pull. I will be emotionally involved; I don't see how that can be avoided. But I also want to keep a distance to help my clarity. I neither want to minimize and dismiss the effect on me, nor do I want to overstate it. But maybe I should experiment with both ends - engulfment and distance.

Regardless, the impact was deep and consequential.

Why am I not surprised? Because, as stated above, I'm not ignorant of the impact that time period had on my psyche and body.

I first AWOLed the Way Corps in 1980 and again in 1983. Not until 2017/2018 did the thought hit me that perhaps my younger self was actually trying to keep my integrity, rather than abandoning it by not fulfilling my Corps vow, though I still regret the method in which I left the Corps. But my leaving was, at least in part and maybe a big part, my self, however awkwardly, trying to be who I was and not what I thought I should be, not what I felt was my obligation to be. And again, it's probably more complex than that. But, what if it's not?

The main point is how so very deeply those years may still influence me, maybe more than I dare want to admit.