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

I often feel like a coiled spring after work. My shoulders grow tense, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Usually, 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, a few months ago, I came across my now-adult son’s old school recorder in the attic. I idly blew into it, instantly reminded of the time 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.

But rather than consigning it to the bin, I brought it downstairs, together with a beginner’s songbook. As a child, I was the least musical child ever. I took recorder classes in primary 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. 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, 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 begged me to quit), 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 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.

Now, several months later, I can handle other children’s songs and a decent 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 being skilled or a “musician” – it’s purely about the joy it provides and how it clears my mind while 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 as my first activity, and during those 20 minutes, I am in my own little world. And afterwards, I feel refreshed and happy.

My friends find it amusing, yet a therapist friend informed me I was not only lowering my stress levels, and boosting mental skills, such as memory and auditory processing, which is precious at my age. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s a real “ode to joy” indeed.