Eh, I used to feel like that when I was younger. I was a pretty solid bassist, and was good enough that the people I played with at least considered me the best player they knew. It was my thing. It was what I did.

Of course, that meant I’d get all insecure and threatened when someone else claimed to be good at doing what I did. That meant I’d want to show off, because, no, no. This is my thing. This is what I do.

It’s not a good way to be. Maybe don’t be like that if you can avoid it.

It also meant I started stagnating, 'cause I didn’t think I had anything left to learn. I wasn’t good enough to be inventive, but I didn’t want to accept that I wasn’t good enough to be inventive. So, I just got frustrated and bored, and I started losing interest.

After a while, I came across Thundercat, and got a bit humbled. Then, I came across Charles Berthoud and some other YouTube bassists, and got even more humbled.

It was awesome! I was finally reminded that there was so much more to learn, and so much more room for me to grow at the thing I loved. I may never be good enough to innovate or invent a technique of my own, but so what? Being the best seems so frustrating and boring. Screw that.

As long as there’s someone better than me at the thing I love, then I know there’s more for me to learn, and learning is way more satisfying.

(But don’t lose the sense of healthy competition. Few things help you grow better than a good rivalry)