It’s been a while since I’ve written the most recent edition of the casual bassist column. So, let’s check in. For nearly a month before my most recent update, I was struggling mightily with the crippling perfectionist tendencies that have plagued me for nearly half of my life. Even after I wrote that column, some of those tendencies seeped into my bass-playing (or lack thereof) afterward. It felt disingenuous to continue to follow my once-per-month schedule if I was continuing to let my perfectionism get the best of me. So here we are, over three months later. What has changed?

Well, for starters, I’ve attempted to develop somewhat of a bass-playing routine. For a brief period in April, I devoted two days per week to bass playing, one hour per day. I subscribed to several YouTube channels devoted to teaching new bassists the basics (all while sprinkling in some more unrealistically advanced videos because I can’t tame my lofty goals). After nearly two months of struggling to find any motivation to play, I began a consistent routine. How long did that last for, though?

Two weeks to be exact. In that time, I felt reinvigorated, and like I had finally established a healthy balance of practice and time for other hobbies to fill my bucket. But once my spring term course load and outside job ramped up, I once again found myself practicing my bass less and less.

I believe in the effectiveness of exposure therapy, and while a bass placement in my bedroom isn’t helping me conquer any fears, I had hoped it would seep its way into my subconscious — waking up to the sight of my bass every morning as a subconscious motivator to play it consistently. When I moved my bass to Eugene, I made it a priority to place it in a convenient spot, one where it can be safe from harm while simultaneously motivating me to play it. Waking up to the sight of my bass was supposed to activate my subconscious into wanting me to play it more, but that didn’t seem to do the trick either.

I’ve had this instrument for about five and a half months, and I’ve tried several different methods of inspiration, but nothing has seemed to work yet. But then, it hit me. I need to play with people! This is a thought I’ve had while practicing several times, but it’s something I’ve always brushed off. “Yes, Caden, playing with people would undoubtedly be more fun, but there’s no way that’s a contributor to your inconsistency.” It’s even something the people in my life have suggested to me, but still, I’d pay it no mind. How silly of me.

As I’ve mentioned in my previous columns, I have a couple immediate family members who are incredibly talented musicians. My dad has been playing the guitar for over 40 years, and my brother has devoted many late nights to perfecting his musicianship. I also have several close friends who boast large quantities of musical talent who’d be more than happy to jam with me from time to time — why did it take me this long to come to this realization?

You could chalk it up to a lot of things, but seasonal depression is the leading candidate. Winter has always been my least favorite season, and one thing winter does to me is stimulate my gravitation toward isolation. There aren’t a lot of things more appealing to me in the winter than wrapping myself up like a burrito in my weighted blanket, throwing on my noise-canceling headphones and removing myself from the outside world (someone tell this guy to touch some grass!). It just so happened that my bass journey started at the same time as my seasonal depression. Not a great combination for building consistency in my life.

But now that the flowers have bloomed and the sun is shining, I have indeed started to touch some grass, rejuvenating my social life and passion for my hobbies in the process. I graduate and move out of Eugene this month, so prioritizing the people and places around me will be a healthy practice that will hopefully seep its way into finally building a consistent regimen of bass playing.