In Praise of ‘Slow Dopamine’

Recently, a friend shared a time lapse video of a bloom­ing dahlia flower (watch it here) where you can see the full pro­gres­sion from bud to bloom. The petals reach away from the bud and out­ward toward light and then con­tract back in before expand­ing again. You can lit­er­al­ly see the dahlia breath­ing in this nat­ur­al rhythm of con­trac­tion and expan­sion in this earth­ly growth cycle of evo­lu­tion. The petals reach out, then draw back in.

There is beau­ty in the nat­ur­al becom­ing of who we are. Ideally, we extend and devel­op, then retreat and integrate.

This is ide­al­ly how dopamine works in our brains, too. Dopamine, the so-called “hap­py” neu­ro­trans­mit­ter, is involved in mem­o­ry, mood, moti­va­tion, and move­ment. It works most effi­cient­ly when released like the dahlia video. As it’s slow­ly released, there is an almost imper­cep­ti­ble feel­ing of expan­sion, then a pause as it’s metabolized.

But we are a world addict­ed to fast dopamine prac­tices, or things that show­er the blood­stream con­stant­ly with the chem­i­cal with no time to draw back and absorb it. I just read that Gen Z (my daughter’s gen­er­a­tion) spends up to a third of their day online. This much dig­i­tal con­sump­tion is a dopamine assault rifle for the brain. We scroll, and the dopamine rush feels good, so we scroll some more to keep that neu­ro­trans­mit­ter fir­ing.  The longer we stay online, the more apt we are to buy some­thing (because impulse buy­ing is anoth­er way to get a quick shot of dope). Social media was lit­er­al­ly cre­at­ed using what sci­ence knows about dopamine and addiction.

While we think of dopamine as a “good” chem­i­cal, too much of any­thing is bad. High dopamine symp­toms include anx­i­ety, insom­nia, brain fog, and exhaus­tion. Mental health dis­or­ders asso­ci­at­ed with excess dopamine include ADHD, addic­tion, depres­sion, schiz­o­phre­nia, and OCD.

The earth­ly growth cycle of evo­lu­tion is expan­sion and con­trac­tion. We need the exhale as much as the inhale. Like the dahlia, we are nature first and need to slow the process down if we want to love our brains.

Slow dopamine is an act of love, giv­ing our ner­vous sys­tems enough time to be wit­ness to the sen­sa­tions of the moment.

Slow dopamine hap­pens when we move our bod­ies, make love, read lit­er­a­ture, lis­ten to music, watch the clouds scut­tle across the sky.

Slow dopamine is get­ting enough sleep and water and pro­tein and sun­light and laughter.

Slow dopamine is med­i­ta­tion and hot cof­fee and a deep mas­sage and a good whiff of your dog’s cornchip paws, a hot soak in the tub or a good stretch for our hamstrings.

Slow dopamine prac­tices are an act of rebel­lion in a world that demands our dig­i­tal atten­tion. It is a recov­ery prac­tice to set down the phone and force our brain to read­just to slow dopamine prac­tices. The plea­sure might come more slow­ly, but it’s longer last­ing, a com­mit­ment to con­tent­ment over con­stant amusement. 

How will you cel­e­brate slow dopamine today?