A particularly primal part of my brain is satisfied when I’m in symmetrical motion. It’s most obvious when running (the extra endorphin punch helps) but hiking or walking makes the grade too. When pairs of legs and arms move in regular rhythm, there’s a satisfaction and a rightness to the axis of the earth.

I’m a bit of a junkie for that ethereal ease. Always on the lookout. An arrangement of clouds that mirrors each other for half a minute. Two waves cresting at the same time on either side of the bay. Always seeking the harmonious in that just-right way. Repetition catches at that deep satisfaction whether it’s a scale of musical notes, the loose swinging of arms on a walk, or matching trees on either side of a road. Symmetry is tantamount to repeatability - once we hear a melody a few times it works its way into the slipstream of our minds.

Funny that this covers the range of senses; in what we see, what we hear, and how we move. This adds to the argument that there’s something fundamental and evolutionary going on.

On a more conscious level, things that are the same are predictable. That means our brains can take a breather, they know what's going to happen. The sum of all their experiences have led to this. Not as much energy is needed to determine whether something is a threat or a beauty. It’s restful since, for a split second, you can be off guard. Everything is just so, arranged well, a known quantity.

We are a living, breathing, pattern-seeking machines. Finding sameness in things that are not: a range of mountains with differing peak heights but similar clusters of trees. Those patterns don't have to be the same on both sides but repetition is where there's peace.

You’d think it would be boring. And it can be - predictability is what we seek and we crave. Until we don’t, and take up cliff diving or join the PTA. When our brains want something our heart isn't satisfied with, where to?

The struggle is the distance of two feet. The measurable space between my heart and my mind.

The immeasurable distance of heaven knows how much on any given day. Could be inches. Could be transoceanic.

Maybe I’ll go out for a walk, put on my favorite song and it won’t seem so far.

This story based on an experience in Joshua Tree, California.