Well, we are in the middle of a pandemic, you know, and there certainly has been a giant decline in the amount of music I’ve been doing.

Here’s the unfortunate truth: I’m barely playing at all. Why? Well, for starters, I really and truly have been very busy with that stuff I do for a living. Crazy, right? It would seem more reasonable to think times would be slow, and I know I’m fortunate that they’re not. I’m as busy as ever and I’m feeling like in the evenings, when I stop working, I just want to not do much of anything.

Perhaps there’s also a psychological component, too, where I’m less motivated because I know there’s no outlet for the music, other than putting things on social media that people probably won’t watch much anyway.

And, finally, perhaps there’s something to the idea that I’m better at “fitting it all in” when I’m under the pressure of being out and about and having to juggle it all. Maybe knowing that I am going to be at home all the time to do music stuff makes it harder to be motivated to actually find the time to do it.

Anyway, for whatever reasons, the glut of projects that I should be working on during my “forced downtime” from playing out and rehearsing with other humans—writings, recording, podcasting, etc.—have not been happening. I feel like there’s a musical sabbatical going on, without the learning and fostering the craft part. I have a song called “Sabbatical,” which was inspired by an insane time where I was stressing out about all the balls in the air and the demands on my time. In the song, the protagonist—me—finds his refuge and release in music and the kind of music that he wants to be doing. The music becomes the savior before he has a break down; it’s the positive part that feeds the soul.

The music is never supposed to be the thing that goes on sabbatical. I suppose it’s appropriate during a time of curveballs that a change in the musical plan has to be thrown in the mix.

I’m going to try to do something about that. It starts, perhaps, with this post. And with some playing I did…

Tonight, I actually was having a musical obsessive type of thought, where I wondered how long it takes someone to forget how to play in the absence of doing it. It’s a ridiculous thought, really, because I’m not talking about being “rusty.” I’m talking about what it would be like to actually forget how to do the very thing you have done for so many years. Logically, intellectually, I know that it doesn’t go away. But the obsessive thought made me want to try to confirm with my wife who was sitting nearby. I said, “Do you think when I get back to playing, it will be like riding a bike? Like it will all come back?” I think she kind of rolled her eyes. I knew it was an asinine thing to ask. But I asked it anyway. And decided to actually go and play a little to find out where I’m at.

Funny enough, the first thing I did was grab the guitar; I didn’t go right to my native instrument. Perhaps I was more afraid of forgetting how to do that first since it’s not my primary thing. The first tune I played and sung was one of mine that I do in all barre chords… because they’re less comfortable for me than open chords as I have to glance at the frets somewhat for those. I reasoned that if I could play that, and sing, I must still be OK. I passed! After a month or whatever it has been since I last got down with it, it was indeed like riding the bike. I knew it would be, but I had to make sure. That’s a contradictory statement, but, again, there’s a little OCD in there. I knew I’d be fine, but I had to check anyway.

Then, after that, I strolled over to the drum kit to play and sing there. All good. We’re gonna be OK.

However, the real crime here is that I have let all this slow me down from doing what I love to do best and what I identify most with: playing music. I should not accept, even in this world, not doing it. I should make musical lemonade from the music lemons. I’m going to try to be better with that, but I look forward to the day when musical normalcy returns. Playing music by yourself is great fun, but it’s not even close to matching the joy of playing with other.