On writing and balancing (battling?) intuition-rationality

"You begin to string words together like beads to tell a story. You are desperate to communicate, to edify or entertain, to preserve moments of grace or joy or transcendence, to make real or imagined events come alive. But you cannot will this to happen. It is a matter of persistence and faith and hard work. So you might as well just go ahead and get started.” - Anne Lamott

It isn't easy.  And the wanting doesn't make it flow, only creates more urgency, desperate sporadic work.  A desire to share what I've learned to the best of my ability, so that my audience, however small, can appreciate without strain or pain a place and a circumstance that may not be accessible otherwise.  On the other hand, a yearning to let it out and let it go and get on with precious life in the freshness of the March breeze that I can nearly feel but merely sense sitting in front of this machine.  A balance between intuition and rationality.  A decluttering of inspirations, flirting with incantations and unsettling trepidations.  Swimming in thoughts that take me back to humid airs and a sheer curiosity, finding myself here, in my comforts, sorting them as though they are enumerable, amenable to a hesitant imposition of civil calculations, of new and old intellect.  What do I bring; what is worthy of counting; how do I prove it to you, to the others?  How do I make something matter for the beyonders.