My One Change That Made a Difference: How I Overcame After-Work Stress Via an Unexpected Find in the Attic

One frequently become as tense as a wound-up clock after work. Tension grips my shoulders, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Typically, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut would be followed by the squeak of a cork pulled from a bottle of red, the wine hastily sploshed into a glass, that first mouthful putting a much-needed full stop on the working day.

Later, several months back, I came across my now-adult son’s old school recorder up in the loft. Curious, I blew into it, immediately transported back to the days when it drove me crazy – his daily practice a violent assault on my eardrums, the sharp sounds echoing in my mind 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 was the least musical child ever. I’d had recorder lessons at infant school, yet never got to try other instruments.

Searching online for recorder tutorials, I viewed many kid-friendly YouTube clips, 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, yet for a stressed, impatient, musically-challenged adult, it felt like a huge achievement.

My son asked what the hell I was doing (and begged me to quit), but I kept going – I enjoyed the sensation the recorder gave me. Forgetting notes easily forced me to focus on the music sheet, 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, after some months, I can handle other children’s songs and a decent Ode to Joy. Yes, my rhythm is off, and I must jot down note names, 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, 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 in those 20 or so minutes, I escape into my own realm. Afterward, 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, such as memory and auditory processing, which is precious at my age. For daily wellness, it’s truly an ode to joy.