My One Change That Worked: The Way I Overcame Post-Work Tension Via an Unexpected Discovery in the Attic

One often feel like a coiled spring once the workday ends. Tension grips my shoulders, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Usually, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut 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.

Then, several months back, I discovered an old school recorder belonging to my grown son in the attic. Curious, I blew into it, instantly reminded of the time 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, together with a beginner’s songbook. Growing up, I had no musical talent whatsoever. I’d had recorder lessons at infant school, yet never got to try other instruments.

Googling “how to play the recorder”, I viewed many kid-friendly YouTube clips, and printed out a fingering chart. I searched “easiest recorder tunes”, and was thrilled when I managed to knock out a passable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Admittedly, a typical young child could learn it quickly, but as a tone deaf, impatient and stressed 51-year-old, it felt like a huge achievement.

My son questioned my actions (and please could I stop), but I persevered – I enjoyed the sensation the recorder gave me. My inability to remember anything forced me to focus on the music sheet, and carefully mimic the finger placements. My breathing slowed down, I was focused, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I felt euphoric. I could play an instrument.

Now, several months later, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a passable Ode to Joy. Sure, my timing is rubbish, and I still need to write the names of the notes down, but to me, it’s not about skill or being 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, but it made me a little sad and nostalgic for my own school days, 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. And afterwards, I feel totally energised and uplifted.

My friends find it amusing, but one very wise therapist friend told me that I was reducing stress, but improving my cognitive skills, like memory and sound processing, which is invaluable at my time of life. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s a real “ode to joy” indeed.