Last night I came across a quote in my journal.

I went to bed early last night, and from my bed I stared out through the large open window. And it was once more as if life with all its mysteries was close to me, as if I could touch it. I had the feeling I was resting against the naked breast of life, and could feel her gentle and regular heartbeat. I felt safe and protected. And I thought, how strange. It is wartime. There are concentration camps.--Etty Hillesum, An Interrupted Life

This being in touch with life itself, this what I am looking for.