My Single Change That Worked: The Way I Conquered After-Work Tension Through an Unexpected Find in the Attic

I frequently become as tense as a wound-up clock after work. Tension grips my shoulders, 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 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, immediately transported back to the days it was the bane of my life – 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 took it down, together with a beginner’s songbook. Growing up, I was the least musical child ever. I’d had recorder lessons at infant school, but never had the opportunity to learn other instruments.

Googling “how to play the recorder”, 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. 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 seemed like a major triumph.

My son asked what the hell I was doing (and please could I stop), but I kept going – I liked the way the recorder made me feel. Forgetting notes easily forced me to focus on the music sheet, and carefully mimic the finger placements. My breath calmed, my attention sharpened, and after nailing that initial shaky melody, I was overjoyed. I had managed to play music.

Now, after some months, I can handle other children’s songs and a passable Ode to Joy. Yes, my rhythm is off, and I must jot down note names, but to me, it’s not about skill or being 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 learned that few kids play the recorder today, which probably relieves parents, 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 escape into my own realm. And afterwards, I feel totally energised and uplifted.

My friends think it’s hilarious, 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. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s a real “ode to joy” indeed.