My One Change That Made a Difference: How I Overcame Post-Work Tension Through an Surprising Find in the Loft

I frequently become as tense as a wound-up clock after work. Tension grips my shoulders, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Typically, closing my laptop with a thud would be followed by the squeak of a cork pulled from a bottle of red, the wine hastily sploshed into a glass, that initial sip marking the end of the workday.

Then, a few months ago, I discovered my now-adult son’s old school recorder in the attic. Curious, I blew into it, immediately transported back to the days it was the bane of my life – his daily practice a violent assault on my eardrums, the piercing shriek still reverberating through my head hours after he had gone to bed.

But rather than consigning it to the bin, I brought it downstairs, along with a book – Very Easy Recorder Tunes. Growing up, I had no musical talent whatsoever. I took recorder classes in primary school, yet never got to try other instruments.

Searching online for recorder tutorials, I watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, and printed out a fingering chart. Looking up simple recorder songs, I felt excited when I played a recognizable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Admittedly, a typical young child could learn it quickly, yet for a stressed, impatient, musically-challenged adult, it seemed like a major triumph.

My son asked what the hell I was doing (and please could I stop), but I persevered – I enjoyed the sensation the recorder gave me. My inability to remember anything meant I had to concentrate on the sheet of paper in front of me, and carefully mimic the finger placements. My breath calmed, my attention sharpened, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I was overjoyed. I had managed to play music.

Today, after some months, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a passable Ode to Joy. Yes, my rhythm is off, and I still need to write the names of the notes down, but for me, it’s not about being skilled or a “musician” – it’s purely about the joy it provides and the fact I can’t think of anything else when I am playing.

I read that only one in six children learn to play the recorder now, which was no doubt music to parents’ ears, yet it made me wistful for my school years, as well as my son’s.

I try to pick up my recorder every evening after work before I do anything else, and during those 20 minutes, I escape into my own realm. Afterward, I feel totally energised and uplifted.

My friends think it’s hilarious, yet a therapist friend informed me that I was reducing stress, but improving my cognitive skills, like memory and sound processing, which is precious at my age. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s truly an ode to joy.