Dopamine & The Doom Scroll
This is the first morning that I'm creating a trace for a morning practice/meditation. I had a conversation with a friend last night, and we were talking about dopamine, and how scrolling and constant phone-in-hand creates a sense of pleasure without actually having to naturally create it for ourselves. Dopamine isn’t a bad thing. It’s a motivation and anticipation neurotransmitter. It is something that is a good thing when we don’t short circuit it by creating it with a doom scroll. It actually drives seeking, focus, learning and reinforcement. It helps wire habits that say “Do that again”.
What happens when I pick up my phone and scroll TikTok before I'm even out of bed is like a dopamine slot machine. I don’t have to actually do anything at all to get the reward. I don’t know what I’ll see next. Something meaningful, a laugh, outrage or beauty. My brain loves the uncertainty, and before I know it. I’m feeding it dopamine before I’ve even had my first cup of coffee. It doesn’t require anything on my part, other than putting my finger on the screen and scrolling up, down, left or right. Subconsciously, I get in a loop that says “why pursue real effort when I can get stimulated instantly?”
With every swipe, I get something new without any real effort on my part. After 10 minutes of scrolling, my ordinary life seems a little less exciting, a little more dull. It gets harder to feel creative and I feel a little more anxious and moody.
Again, dopamine isn’t a bad thing, and with all the negative press about it, I realize I have come to think that it is. In reality, I am tuned for depth and resonance in the world. Art, prayer, chanting, embodiment, intimacy, silence…these all require a regulated dopamine baseline. When I overstimulate myself, it blunts creativity, sensitivity and presence in my body. It’s not weakness, just a mismatch of energy. It’s not the end of the world.
I have the ability to stabilize my own dopamine if I will just do it. It’s not reinventing the wheel. Just small movements taken consciously with a little effort on my part. Simple things. Write a couple of lines of a song, chant for 5 minutes, clean off one counter, walk for 10 minutes. Here’s what happens. My brain learns that effort equals reward.
My new morning ritual is to create something before I consume anything. Even just a little. A simple new rule of thumb. Today was my first day to try this new practice. Hum before scrolling. One paragraph of a journal entry before looking at news. Strecth or do a few crunches before I check my email. Apparently this protects my dopamine regulation and the stability of my nervous system. Who knew?
It is my intention to keep this up, and I’m counting on this blog creation to help solidify it in my brain and body. Over time, and even today. I will crave presence over performance, depth over novelty. It’s not about doing less. It’s about doing what feeds my nervous system, not what drains it. And it’s totally up to me.
I already feel better today, and it’s just 8am. It’s going to be a great day. Let’s hope I keep it up. So far, I've stretched, had a cup of coffee, walked my dogs around the block, and written this blog, and I haven’t even looked to see what’s up with Erika and Candace yet! It’s going to be a great day!
Morning Dog Walks
I love our morning dog walks. I live for them. There’s something sacred about the ritual every morning - the small but holy act of leashes clipped, harnesses buckled, and two canines and a human stepping out into the day together. Most mornings it’s just the three pack.
Judah makes me laugh every day, walking the curb like a balance beam. Bodhi keeps close to my side, not because I ask him to, but because he wants to. We walk, side by side, hearts beating in rhythm. Their joy is contagious - it spills over into my morning, too.
The walk grounds me. It reminds me that life is not complicated. That love is not complicated. These two beings trust completely that wherever we’re going, all is well. They don’t second-guess the path, they don’t worry about what’s around the next corner. They trust. And I get to practice trusting, too. Trusting the present moment is all we ever need.
Each morning becomes a walking meditation: just a human and two canines circling the block. Nothing else matters. Judah on his balance beam. Bodhi healing by my side. Me, breathing the morning air step by step.
It’s not just a walk. It’s communion. A reminder that the kingdom is here, in the ordinary, in the smells and pawsteps and shared silence of a neighborhood morning. Practicing being present, practicing unconditional love - one dog walk at a time..
G-Flo & The Tribe: A Meditation You Can Listen To
There’s a way to listen to this album that lets it become something more than music. It can be a spiritual journey. A practice. A way back to the essence of who you are.
When I recorded G-Flo & The Tribe, I wasn’t really trying to make a “record”. I was trying to create an experience you could step into. These chants came out of a season of deep listening, and many were inspired from a yoga class at Ananda Village, and the affirmations of Swami Kriyananda. The affirmations took hold of me, and then I started hearing melodies, which turned into chants that we sang in a Song Circle I was leading in Reno, and eventually evolved into this album.
If you want to experience this album the way it was meant to be felt, try this:
Put on your headphones. Close your eyes. And let the music become a meditation.
Chant along with me. Open your heart and your throat chakra, and let it rise and fall with your breath. Let the repetition carry you inward. Let the vibration of the music pull you deeper into your awareness of being in the present moment.
Let every simple chant be a reminder that you already have everything you need inside you. Music is healing, and if you let it, it will meet you right where you are - in the middle of your healing and in remembering who you are.