The One Change That Made a Difference: The Way I Overcame Post-Work Stress Through an Surprising Find in the Attic
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.
Later, a few months ago, I came across my now-adult son’s old school recorder up in the loft. 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 sharp sounds echoing in my mind long after he slept.
Instead of throwing it away, I brought it downstairs, together with a beginner’s songbook. Growing up, I had no musical talent whatsoever. I’d had recorder lessons at infant school, but never had the opportunity to learn other instruments.
Googling “how to play the recorder”, I viewed many kid-friendly YouTube clips, 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. 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 seemed like a major triumph.
My son asked what the hell I was doing (and begged me to quit), but I kept going – I liked the way the recorder made me feel. My inability to remember anything meant I had to concentrate on the sheet of paper in front of me, and carefully mimic the finger placements. My breath calmed, I was focused, and after nailing that initial shaky melody, I was overjoyed. I could play an instrument.
Today, several months later, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a decent Ode to Joy. Yes, my timing is rubbish, 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, yet it made me wistful for my school years, 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 totally energised and uplifted.
My friends think it’s hilarious, but one very wise therapist friend told me I was not only lowering my stress levels, and boosting mental skills, like memory and sound processing, which is precious at my age. For daily wellness, it’s a real “ode to joy” indeed.