My One Change That Worked: How I Overcame Post-Work Tension Through an Unexpected Discovery in the Loft

I frequently become as tense as a wound-up clock after work. My shoulders grow tense, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut would be followed by the squeak of a cork pulled from a bottle of red, wine poured quickly into a glass, that first mouthful putting a much-needed full stop on the working day.

Then, a few months ago, I came across an old school recorder belonging to my grown son in the attic. Curious, I blew into it, immediately transported back to the days it was the bane of my life – his daily rehearsals felt like an attack on my ears, the piercing shriek still reverberating through my head long after he slept.

But rather than consigning it to the bin, I took it down, along with a book – Very Easy Recorder Tunes. Growing up, I had no musical talent whatsoever. I took recorder classes in primary school, yet never got to try other instruments.

Searching online for recorder tutorials, I watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, and printed out a fingering chart. I searched “easiest recorder tunes”, 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, 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 kept going – I enjoyed the sensation the recorder gave me. Forgetting notes easily meant I had to concentrate on the sheet of paper in front of me, 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.

Now, after some months, 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 to me, it’s not about being skilled or a “musician” – it’s purely about the joy it provides 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, yet it made me wistful for my school years, 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. 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, such as memory and auditory processing, which is precious at my age. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s truly an ode to joy.