Writer's Block: It's Hard to Describe

Well, it might be two things, it might be a single thing, I really can't seem to be able to tell its true nature myself.
It is hard to describe what it is hard to describe, and I'm not sure if there is even a word for it. But it is always within my mind, like some singular obsession, and lot of people seem to have it too, although most of them seem to gloss over it. It is that something which resonates between the world and whatever it is that I consider to be myself. It is expressed in art and pursued in science. People living away from it for extended period of time have a bad habit of being useless. It maybe related to erudition to certain extent, although whether it is a cause or a result of it, I cannot tell. When it momentarily shades upon the tableau of my vision, the vision in this sense the slice of the world I can experience at the moment using all kind of senses, I perceive it as a sort of beauty. There is no denying that it is beautiful, but just what shade of beauty it is I cannot describe. I might feel calm, but one thing is for certain. Even a fleeting glimpse of it will drive me toward the brittering edge of obsession, though where the osession goes I still have no idea.