My Single Change That Worked: The Way I Overcame Post-Work Stress Via an Unexpected Find in the Loft

One often feel like a coiled spring once the workday ends. Tension grips my shoulders, my breath turns fast and shallow. Typically, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut used to lead to the pop of a cork from a wine bottle, wine poured quickly into a glass, that initial sip marking the end of the workday.

Then, several months back, 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 piercing shriek still reverberating through my head long after he slept.

But rather than consigning it to the bin, I brought it downstairs, along with a book – Very Easy Recorder Tunes. Growing up, I was the least musical child ever. I took recorder classes in primary school, yet never got to try other instruments.

Googling “how to play the recorder”, I watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, and got a fingering guide on paper. 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 seemed like a major triumph.

My son asked what the hell I was doing (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 painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breathing slowed down, my attention sharpened, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I felt euphoric. I could play an instrument.

Now, after some months, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a decent Ode to Joy. Sure, 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 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, yet it made me wistful for my school years, and my son’s childhood.

I make it a habit to play each night after work as my first activity, and in those 20 or so minutes, I am in my own little world. And afterwards, I feel refreshed and happy.

My friends think it’s hilarious, yet a therapist friend informed me that I was reducing stress, but improving my cognitive skills, such as memory and auditory processing, which is precious at my age. For daily wellness, it’s truly an ode to joy.