My One Adjustment That Made a Difference: How I Conquered After-Work Tension Through an Surprising Discovery in the Loft

I frequently become like a coiled spring once the workday ends. My shoulders grow tense, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Typically, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut would be followed by the squeak of a cork pulled from a bottle of red, the wine hastily sploshed into a glass, that first mouthful putting a much-needed full stop on the working day.

Later, a few months ago, I discovered my now-adult son’s old school recorder up in the loft. Curious, I blew into it, immediately transported back to the days 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 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, I felt excited when I played a recognizable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Admittedly, it was something your average five-year-old could master before first break, but as a tone deaf, impatient and stressed 51-year-old, it felt like a huge achievement.

My son questioned my actions (and please could I stop), but I kept going – I liked the way the recorder made me feel. Forgetting notes easily meant I had to concentrate on the sheet of paper in front of me, and carefully mimic the finger placements. My breathing slowed down, I was focused, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I was overjoyed. I could play an instrument.

Today, several months later, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a passable Ode to Joy. Yes, my timing is rubbish, and I must jot down note names, but for me, it’s not about skill or being a musician – it’s purely about the joy it provides 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, yet it made me wistful for my school years, as well as my son’s.

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

My friends find it amusing, but one very wise therapist friend told me that I was reducing stress, but improving my cognitive skills, like memory and sound processing, which is invaluable at my time of life. For daily wellness, it’s truly an ode to joy.