I heard a podcaster today talk about writing. Luke Norsworthy said that writing is simple. You just find a vein, open it, and bleed onto the page. That's really graphic, but makes so much sense.
My problem is finding the vein. Sometimes I poke and prod and search for that thing to say. My brain allows so many deep thoughts to rattle around. I have to catch one of those flying shards of truth and craft it into a sensical presentation, something worth saying in a form worth hearing.
Sometimes finding the vein is fun. Sometimes it is frustrating. Sometimes I have so many veins begging to be bled that I can't begin to tap them all.
Now maybe I can un-mix my metaphor. The flying shards can, with a bit of guidance, pierce those veins of the heart. A shard of truth slicing into a vessel of life--now that can shed some serious blood.