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

I frequently become like a coiled spring after work. My shoulders grow tense, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Usually, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut would be followed by the pop of a cork from a wine bottle, 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, immediately transported back to the days 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.

But rather than consigning it to the bin, I brought it downstairs, together with a beginner’s songbook. 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, and was thrilled when I managed to knock out a passable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Admittedly, a typical young child could learn it quickly, yet for a stressed, impatient, musically-challenged adult, it seemed like a major triumph.

My son questioned my actions (and begged me to quit), but I persevered – I enjoyed the sensation the recorder gave me. My inability to remember anything forced me to focus on the music sheet, and carefully mimic the finger placements. My breathing slowed down, my attention sharpened, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I felt euphoric. I had managed to play music.

Now, several months later, I can handle other children’s songs and a passable Ode to Joy. Yes, my rhythm is off, 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 how it clears my mind while 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. 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.