My Single Adjustment That Made a Difference: How I Conquered Post-Work Stress Via an Unexpected Find in the Loft

I often feel like a coiled spring once the workday ends. My shoulders grow tense, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, closing my laptop with a thud used to lead to the pop of a cork from a wine bottle, wine poured quickly into a glass, that initial sip marking the end of the workday.

Later, several months back, I came across an old school recorder belonging to my grown son up in the loft. Curious, I blew into it, instantly reminded of the time when it drove me crazy – his daily practice a violent assault on my eardrums, the piercing shriek still reverberating through my head long after he slept.

But rather than consigning it to the bin, I took it down, together with a beginner’s songbook. As a child, I had no musical talent whatsoever. I took recorder classes in primary 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. Looking up simple recorder songs, and was thrilled when I managed to knock out a passable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Admittedly, it was something your average five-year-old could master before first break, yet for a stressed, impatient, musically-challenged adult, it seemed like a major triumph.

My son questioned my actions (and please could I stop), but I kept going – 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, I was focused, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I felt euphoric. I had managed to play music.

Today, after some months, I can handle other children’s songs and a decent Ode to Joy. Sure, my timing is rubbish, and I must jot down note names, 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, but it made me a little sad and nostalgic for my own school days, as well as my son’s.

I make it a habit to play each night after work before I do anything else, and during those 20 minutes, I escape into my own realm. And afterwards, I feel refreshed and happy.

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.