The One Adjustment That Made a Difference: How I Overcame After-Work Stress Through an Unexpected Find in the Loft

One frequently become like a coiled spring once the workday ends. My shoulders grow tense, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Usually, closing my laptop with a thud would be followed by the squeak of a cork pulled from a bottle of red, wine poured quickly into a glass, that initial sip marking the end of the workday.

Later, a few months ago, I discovered 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 piercing shriek still reverberating through my head hours after he had gone to bed.

Instead of throwing it away, I took it down, along with a book – Very Easy Recorder Tunes. 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 printed out a fingering chart. Looking up simple recorder songs, 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 asked what the hell I was doing (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, I was focused, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I was overjoyed. I had managed to play music.

Now, after some months, I can “play” other nursery rhymes 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 skill or being 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, but it made me a little sad and nostalgic for my own school days, and my son’s childhood.

I try to pick up my recorder every evening after work as my first activity, and during those 20 minutes, I escape into my own realm. Afterward, I feel refreshed and happy.

My friends think it’s hilarious, but one very wise therapist friend told me that I was reducing stress, and boosting mental skills, such as memory and auditory processing, which is invaluable at my time of life. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s truly an ode to joy.