The Single Change That Made a Difference: The Way I Overcame After-Work Stress Through an Unexpected Find in the Loft

I often feel like a coiled spring after work. My shoulders grow tense, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, closing my laptop with a thud used to lead to 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.

Later, several months back, I discovered an old school recorder belonging to my grown son in the attic. I idly blew into it, instantly reminded of the time it was the bane of my life – his daily rehearsals felt like an attack on my ears, the sharp sounds echoing in my mind long after he slept.

Instead of throwing it away, I took it down, 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.

Searching online for recorder tutorials, 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. Admittedly, a typical young child could learn it quickly, yet for a stressed, impatient, musically-challenged adult, it felt like a huge achievement.

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. Forgetting notes easily meant I had to concentrate on the sheet of paper in front of me, and painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breath calmed, I was focused, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I was overjoyed. I could play an instrument.

Now, several months later, I can handle other children’s songs and a decent Ode to Joy. Yes, my timing is rubbish, 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 probably relieves parents, 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 as my first activity, and in those 20 or so minutes, I escape into my own realm. And afterwards, I feel refreshed and happy.

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 precious at my age. For daily wellness, it’s a real “ode to joy” indeed.