You called it 'weightlessness' or else 'a rushed quality'; there was a time when the retreat of being was evident, when it was noticed because immediately felt. Now, it seems as if there is only an echo of that feeling, possibly at times a loud echo, but only because the general cacophony of crossed voices has grown loud. To recall this is to gain some understanding of how naturally forgetting erases that delicate sense of things. Attempts to reawakening it are painful to behold because almost certainly doomed. But again, what was experienced as being was and remains largely aesthetic. You need to go one more step back, past where the foundations lay, into free fall, the groundless ground.