My One Adjustment That Made a Difference: How I Conquered After-Work Stress Via an Surprising Find in the Attic

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

Then, several months back, I came across 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 practice a violent assault on my eardrums, the sharp sounds echoing in my mind hours after he had gone to bed.

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, but never had the opportunity to learn other instruments.

Googling “how to play the recorder”, I watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, and got a fingering guide on paper. Looking up simple recorder songs, and was thrilled when I managed to knock out a passable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Yes, a typical young child could learn it quickly, yet for a stressed, impatient, musically-challenged adult, 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 forced me to focus on the music sheet, and painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breath calmed, my attention sharpened, and after nailing that initial shaky melody, I was overjoyed. I could play an instrument.

Today, after some months, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a passable Ode to Joy. Sure, 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 is simply about the pleasure it brings 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 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 before I do anything else, and during those 20 minutes, I escape into my own realm. Afterward, 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, like memory and sound processing, which is precious at my age. For daily wellness, it’s a real “ode to joy” indeed.