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

I often feel as tense as a wound-up clock once the workday ends. My shoulders grow tense, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut used to lead to 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.

Then, a few months ago, I discovered my now-adult son’s old school recorder up in the loft. 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 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 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, but as a tone deaf, impatient and stressed 51-year-old, it felt like a huge achievement.

My son questioned my actions (and begged me to quit), but I persevered – I liked the way the recorder made me feel. 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 breathing slowed down, my attention sharpened, and after nailing that initial shaky melody, I felt euphoric. I could play an instrument.

Today, after some months, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a passable Ode to Joy. Yes, 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 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, yet it made me wistful for my school years, and my son’s childhood.

I try to pick up my recorder every evening after work before I do anything else, 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 I was not only lowering my stress levels, but improving my cognitive 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.