My One Adjustment That Worked: How I Overcame Post-Work Stress Through an Unexpected Find in the Loft
I frequently become like a coiled spring once the workday ends. My shoulders grow tense, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, 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.
Then, several months back, I discovered an old school recorder belonging to my grown son in the attic. Curious, I 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 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 was the least musical child ever. 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 got a fingering guide on paper. I searched “easiest recorder tunes”, I felt excited when I played a recognizable 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 seemed like a major triumph.
My son asked what the hell I was doing (and please could I stop), but I persevered – 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 painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breath calmed, my attention sharpened, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I was overjoyed. I had managed to play music.
Today, after some months, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a passable Ode to Joy. Sure, my timing is rubbish, and I still need to write the names of the notes down, but to 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, 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 in those 20 or so minutes, I am in my own little world. And afterwards, I feel totally energised and uplifted.
My friends find it amusing, but one very wise therapist friend told me I was not only lowering my stress levels, and boosting mental skills, such as memory and auditory processing, which is precious at my age. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s a real “ode to joy” indeed.