The Single Change That Worked: How I Overcame After-Work Tension Via an Unexpected Discovery in the Loft

I frequently become as tense as a wound-up clock once the workday ends. My shoulders grow tense, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, closing my laptop with a thud would be followed by the pop of a cork from a wine bottle, the wine hastily sploshed into a glass, that initial sip marking the end of the workday.

Then, several months back, I came across an old school recorder belonging to my grown son in the attic. I idly 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 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 had no musical talent whatsoever. I took recorder classes in primary school, but never had the opportunity to learn other instruments.

Searching online for recorder tutorials, I watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, 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. Yes, it was something your average five-year-old could master before first break, yet for a stressed, impatient, musically-challenged adult, it felt like a huge achievement.

My son asked what the hell I was doing (and begged me to quit), but I persevered – 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 breath calmed, I was focused, 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 passable Ode to Joy. Yes, my timing is rubbish, and I still need to write the names of the notes down, but for 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 learned that few kids play the recorder today, which was no doubt music to parents’ ears, 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 before I do anything else, and in those 20 or so minutes, I escape into my own realm. Afterward, I feel totally energised and uplifted.

My friends find it amusing, yet a therapist friend informed me I was not only lowering my stress levels, 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.