The Single Adjustment That Made a Difference: The Way I Overcame Post-Work Tension Through an Unexpected Find in the Attic

One frequently become as tense as a wound-up clock after work. My shoulders grow tense, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Typically, closing my laptop with a thud 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.

Then, a few months ago, I discovered an old school recorder belonging to my grown son up in the loft. Curious, I 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.

Instead of throwing it away, I took it down, along with a book – Very Easy Recorder Tunes. As a child, I was the least musical child ever. I’d had recorder lessons at infant school, yet never got to try other instruments.

Googling “how to play the recorder”, I viewed many kid-friendly YouTube clips, and got a fingering guide on paper. Looking up simple recorder songs, I felt excited when I played a recognizable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Admittedly, a typical young child could learn it quickly, but as a tone deaf, impatient and stressed 51-year-old, it seemed like a major triumph.

My son questioned my actions (and please could I stop), but I kept going – I liked the way the recorder made me feel. My inability to remember anything forced me to focus on the music sheet, and painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breathing slowed down, my attention sharpened, and after nailing that initial shaky melody, I was overjoyed. I had managed to play music.

Today, after some months, I can handle other children’s songs and a passable Ode to Joy. Sure, my rhythm is off, 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 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, and my son’s childhood.

I try to pick up my recorder every evening after work as my first activity, and in those 20 or so minutes, I am in my own little world. Afterward, 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, like memory and sound 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.