My One Change That Worked: How I Conquered Post-Work Tension Via an Unexpected Find in the Loft

I often feel like a coiled spring after work. Tension grips my shoulders, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, closing my laptop with a thud would be followed by the pop of a cork from a wine bottle, the wine hastily sploshed into a glass, that initial sip marking the end of the workday.

Later, several months back, I came across my now-adult son’s old school recorder in the attic. Curious, I blew into it, immediately transported back to the days when it drove me crazy – his daily rehearsals felt like an attack on my ears, the sharp sounds echoing in my mind hours after he had gone to bed.

Instead of throwing it away, I brought it downstairs, along with a book – Very Easy Recorder Tunes. Growing up, I was the least musical child ever. I’d had recorder lessons at infant school, yet never got to try other instruments.

Googling “how to play the recorder”, I watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, and got a fingering guide on paper. I searched “easiest recorder tunes”, I felt excited when I played a recognizable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Yes, it was something your average five-year-old could master before first break, but as a tone deaf, impatient and stressed 51-year-old, it felt like a huge achievement.

My son asked what the hell I was doing (and please could I stop), but I persevered – I liked the way the recorder made me feel. My inability to remember anything meant I had to concentrate on the sheet of paper in front of me, and painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breathing slowed down, my attention sharpened, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I was overjoyed. I had managed to play music.

Now, several months later, I can handle other children’s songs 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 is simply about the pleasure it brings 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 am in my own little world. Afterward, I feel refreshed and happy.

My friends find it amusing, but one very wise therapist friend told me I was not only lowering my stress levels, but improving my cognitive skills, such as memory and auditory processing, which is precious at my age. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s truly an ode to joy.