The Dopamine Hunt: Small Things That Lift My Mood When Motivation Is Low
There was a point at the start of February where I felt flat in a way I couldn’t quite explain. Not low enough to stop everything, but low enough to notice.
With an awareness of perimenopause and a history of depression, trauma and grief (reflections for another time), I know how low can go. This wasn’t that. But something felt off and motivation was harder to find.
I could have put it down to the dark evenings or the time of year, but instead I reached out. In a coaching conversation with Emma Cossey (via Voxer), she brought my attention back to ADHD and the idea of having a simple dopamine list. A few things you can come back to that help lift your mood and support you when motivation is low.
ADHD is still quite new to me, particularly since my self-diagnosis last year, and I’m very much learning as I go. I didn’t want to dismiss something without trying it, so I started to pay attention to what actually helped.
It wasn’t something I sat down and planned. It began with small things, sometimes quite spontaneous. Noticing what I was drawn to, what I looked forward to, and what helped lift my mood or give me a bit more energy.
And over a short time, it started to take shape into something I’ve really enjoyed exploring. It’s definitely becoming a go-to list that I can draw on. It’s still very much in its experimental phase, but I can tell the exploration has now become part of it.
Trying things, noticing what I looked forward to, or what sparked a bit of interest when planning or researching, and realising how often the simplest things were the ones I’d been missing. The kind of things that were already available and didn’t take much effort or cost much.
What I found myself coming back to
Bookshop browsing has been one of the biggest ones. Not buying anything necessarily, just being in that space, picking up books, noticing their covers, reading the backs, letting myself follow what I’m drawn to. It feels calm, but also quietly energising at the same time. And my “to read” list is now growing.
I’ve also noticed how much I enjoy small changes within familiar things. Trying a different coffee shop instead of my usual one, taking a slightly different walking route, browsing a section of the bookshop I wouldn’t normally go to, or listening to a new podcast, even just for one episode. Nothing major, but enough to feel a difference.
Everyday things I’d overlooked
Starting the day with a podcast or audiobook has helped too. It’s not something I used to do. It’s a small change, but it means I begin the day with something that’s just for me, rather than going straight into tasks or scrolling. It’s changed the tone of the morning more than I expected.
A lot of what’s been helping isn’t new at all. I’ve realised it’s sensory, it’s seasonal, and it’s already there.
Sitting in the sunshine when it appears. A spontaneous coffee in a courtyard with a colleague, just soaking it up. Sleeping with the curtains open so the light wakes me naturally, or leaving the window slightly open and waking up to birdsong.
Even small changes at home have felt noticeable with this in mind. Lighting a candle in the evening and realising my scent preferences are changing. Wanting something lighter now, more spring-like. Lemongrass has become a favourite.
There’s something in that too. Paying attention to what feels good now, not what used to. It’s a theme I keep coming back to in my writing.
Last year, I became more comfortable spending time on my own at home. This year, I’ve noticed a change. I’m leaning more into being on my own out in the world.
Coffee shops and bookshops, taking my laptop or journal and sitting somewhere different. There’s something about that change of environment that lifts things slightly, without needing much effort.
I’d stopped going out for coffee to save money, and because I rarely have caffeine these days. But I’m bringing it back occasionally, choosing a peppermint tea instead, and treating it as something that supports me rather than something extra.
I’ve come to really enjoy focusing on my blog and writing each week in a different place, usually on a Monday morning. It’s become something I look forward to throughout the week, and something I’m continuing to explore more through my blog posts.
There are still things I want to try. Going to the cinema on my own. Taking a book to the park. Walking somewhere with water nearby. But there’s no pressure. I’m actually enjoying noticing what I’m drawn to next.
Scrapbooking has come back into focus again. I had hoped it would. It was one of the reasons behind my choice of the word “create” this year. A recent retreat reminded me how much I enjoy it, and now I’m thinking more about how to make it part of everyday life, not just something occasional.
At the moment, that looks like sorting through my supplies, organising my space so it’s easier to start, moving a desk so I can sit near a window, and going through printed photos or the ones on my phone. I’ve also noticed how much I enjoy playing with layouts, colours and textures, especially when I’m working with paper and materials. There’s something about the tactile side of it that feels different, slower, more absorbing.
A lot of my work as a Virtual Assistant involves creating content, things like social media content and graphics, so I’m often already doing this without really thinking about it. I do enjoy that work, but it’s made me realise how much I also need that more hands-on, offline creativity alongside it.
It’s just that when I’m working with paper, I lose myself in it completely. There’s no pressure or deadline, and my mind feels quieter. It’s something I do just for me, and that feels different.
Something to look forward to
One of the key things I’ve noticed is that having something small to look forward to makes a difference when I’m feeling flat. Planning a solo cinema trip, thinking about going back to the lido, deciding to make coffee shop writing a weekly thing, choosing my next book before I’ve finished the current one, having both a book and an audiobook on the go.
Even the intention of doing these things seems to make me feel lighter and more energised. It’s not just the doing, it’s the knowing that it’s there.
I’ve now got a dopamine list that’s still growing, and I feel proud of myself for exploring. What I’ve noticed most is that none of this is big or life-changing. It’s not a reset or a full routine change. It’s small changes, slight adjustments, and everyday things.
What I’m starting to ask myself
I’ve found myself asking this more often now: what actually makes a difference for me? Not what should. Not what works for someone else. Just what I notice in my own day.
I think what I’m realising is that the dopamine hunt itself has become something I enjoy. There’s a curiosity to it, a sense of trying things and seeing what makes a positive difference, without needing it to be perfect.
Some of it has surprised me. How simple it can be, and how much is already there if I pay attention. And how noticing it, in the moment, can be enough.
It’s left me feeling lighter, less stuck, and a bit more inspired again. Even my writing, which had felt blocked for a while, is starting to flow again.
And there’s something else I hadn’t expected. The list itself isn’t just something to reach for when I feel low. The act of adding to it, of noticing and capturing what helps, can be just as uplifting.
I’m still figuring it out, but I’m enjoying the process of it. And for now, that feels like a good place to be.
Sarah is the founder of Mindful & Me, a reflective wellbeing space for women in midlife, sharing gentle, practical support around perimenopause, seasonal living, and slowing down, often inspired by real life.
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