The trouble is, that there's this thick skin surrounding your idea; a waxy, orange covering that's seemingly impervious. It's tough against your fingers, and you can't bite straight into it; that would be too much, it would make you sick. Your finger tips scrabble across the surface, trying to feel for a vulnerable point, trying to find a *way in*.
Sometimes it's easy and there's a small green peice at the top, or something that's loose. You pick at it for a second, as though it were a scab, until it comes loose and you're *in*. Often, though, you have to use a tool, or perhaps just the tip of your nail, plunging it in through the surface as though it were the tip of your claw -- *creating* an opening. That can hurt, from time to time, because that's not what your nail is meant to do, and the pressure is hard on the sensitive skin beneath it. But that doesn't matter because the pain is momentary and the sharp tang of citrus is in the air and you're peeling away all that stands between you and what you've working toward, the whole round orange globe, fitted into your hand.
Waiting for what you will do with it. That's the easy part, once you've begun -- doing what you've planned, finding your way through your idea and learning the true shapes of the pieces of it. What's hard is finding that soft spot, where it's vulnerable. Where you can cut your way into it.