My One Change That Worked: The Way I Conquered Post-Work Stress Via an Surprising Discovery in the Loft

One often feel like a coiled spring after work. Tension grips my shoulders, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, closing my laptop with a thud would be followed by 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 came across my now-adult son’s old school recorder up in the loft. Curious, I blew into it, instantly reminded of the time when it drove me crazy – his daily practice a violent assault on my eardrums, the piercing shriek still reverberating through my head 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. As a child, 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 watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, and printed out a fingering chart. I searched “easiest recorder tunes”, and was thrilled when I managed to knock out a passable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Yes, a typical young child could learn it quickly, 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 kept going – I liked the way the recorder made me feel. Forgetting notes easily forced me to focus on the music sheet, and painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breathing slowed down, I was focused, and after nailing that initial shaky melody, I felt euphoric. I had managed to play music.

Today, after some months, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a passable Ode to Joy. Sure, my timing is rubbish, and I must jot down note names, but for me, it’s not about being skilled or 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 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 before I do anything else, and in those 20 or so minutes, I am in my own little world. Afterward, I feel totally energised and uplifted.

My friends find it amusing, yet a therapist friend informed me that I was reducing stress, and boosting mental skills, like memory and sound processing, which is precious at my age. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s truly an ode to joy.