Are You Dopamine Chasing?

Novelty is my drug of choice

I am addicted to novelty.

Without doing new things, without seeing something with wonder on a regular basis, I ease into a dark quagmire - a graveyard for hope and meaning.

When I lived in NYC, I got my dopamine fix by taking different routes to my son, Tristan’s school in the Lower East Side.

Walking with observant eyes calmed my nerves after back-to-back lectures. On a bright fall day, parallel to the East Side Highway, I witnessed a menagerie of dogs and their owners. Furry pets walked like their humans in odd side steps, on their toes, or marching to a beat. Some owners and dogs had the same expression on their furrowed brows or matching, open-mouthed smiles.

Walking through the Fashion District, my hands itched to run my finger tips across the silky and velvety fabrics displayed in wide windows. The rows of buttons and embellishments beckoned to me like twinkling eye candy. They whispered in tiny, insistent voices, “You want me! You need me! I am beautiful!”

Korea Town was often an emotional journey as heart-tugging smells of home and the streets of Seoul wafted toward me. The sweet, toasty aroma of red bean pastries pressed into molds of fish pulled me right back to winters in Korea. The garlic and chili clinging to the moisture in the air reminded me of my Uhma’s steamed up kitchen.

Immersing my senses on walking adventure, I felt recharged and ready to step back into motherhood.

I could greet my son fully and with genuine excitement. Those daily reunion moments with your child are always so telling. Sometimes, I had to welcome him back into my arms with warmth and presence even though I felt hollow and lost inside. Motherhood is so all-consuming choice and it reminds you of the dangers of not refilling your cup more.

When my senses were abundantly replenished, the world would respond in kind.

The subway ride home to Brooklyn felt welcoming instead of tense and crowded. Young Caribbean men offered us their seats and smiled upon us. I could picture it - their mothers providing subway etiquette lessons as they rode the subway as children. Niko noticed this as well.

In our last trip there, Niko instructed me to stand close or sit near large Black men on nightly subway rides. When I asked him his reasoning, he told me that he could tell by the way they treated us that they would protect us if it came down to it. I believed him.

I return to NYC almost every summer and never tire of how much the city changes and also doesn’t. This last summer, Niko and I spent 10 days in the city. It felt like a month stretched full of new memories.

Every day our only plan was to take the subway somewhere we hadn’t gone before.
We explored, found playgrounds with sprinklers, great food, lovely people.

As an adult, I understand implementing structure is necessary, but too much routine and repetition makes me panic. Neurodivergent people often experience dopamine dysregulation because our brains do not always have enough of the “feel-good” neurotransmitter that provides a sense of reward and pleasure.

Novelty is one of the primary ways to stimulate dopamine release. It is my drug of choice.

Constant exploration of new environments provides the fresh sensory input that my brain craves to feel alive. The flip side of this is not pretty. Placing rigid structures around my routine is no different than caging my mind in negative loops. The lack of new explorations can send me into a quick depression.

I can’t always return to NYC when I am in the doldrums. I chose to start van life this fall, but packing my bags every time I feel disquieted is not realistic.

After months of travel this summer, I found that it is not easy to build on habits and projects when you are constantly starting over from location to location. My younger son needs some regularity and stability to help him manage his own neurodivergent challenges.

Thankfully, the strong compulsion for novelty does not require a vacation. I can step into a travel mindset to experience my daily life.
• Within minutes of my home, there are dense, lush Redwood forests for me to hike in.
• I get to travel inward while reading and journaling in my van with the rain pelting the sunroof.
• Starting my day with a ritual of coffee making can be an aromatic escapade if done with slow attention.

Becoming a local tourist is more about who I am in the moment rather than where I am.

Novelty starts from the open, curious mindset of an artist, of a traveler, of a child.
• It is like watching a film from the eyes of the supporting character.
• It is like wearing someone else’s glasses and then jumping off a chair.
• It is like falling in love and everything around you falls into poetic patterns.
• It is like watching the edges of trees doing an interpretive dance with the wind right before a storm.
• It is like hugging your child after a long walk through a city that cradles your senses.

“If you do not experience awe every day, then something is wrong.” - My friend Cinda

I have carried this advice with me everywhere I go.

It is only recently that I understood that awe can be anywhere and everywhere.