I often feel as tense as a wound-up clock after work. 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 came across my now-adult sonâs old school recorder in the attic. Curious, I blew into it, instantly reminded of the time when it drove me crazy â his daily rehearsals felt like an attack on my ears, the sharp sounds echoing in my mind hours after he had gone to bed.
But rather than consigning it to the bin, I brought it downstairs, together with a beginnerâs songbook. Growing up, I was the least musical child ever. I took recorder classes in primary school, yet never got to try other instruments.
Googling âhow to play the recorderâ, I watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, and printed out a fingering chart. I searched âeasiest recorder tunesâ, I felt excited when I played a recognizable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Yes, a typical young child could learn it quickly, 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 please could I stop), but I persevered â 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 Iâd mastered that first faltering tune, I felt euphoric. I had managed to play music.
Now, several months later, I can handle other childrenâs songs and a decent Ode to Joy. Sure, my timing is rubbish, and I still need to write the names of the notes down, but for me, itâs not about skill or being a musician â itâs purely about the joy it provides and how it clears my mind while playing.
I read that only one in six children learn to play the recorder now, which was no doubt music to parentsâ ears, but it made me a little sad and nostalgic for my own school days, and my sonâs childhood.
I make it a habit to play each night after work as my first activity, and in those 20 or so minutes, I escape into my own realm. And afterwards, I feel totally energised and uplifted.
My friends think itâs hilarious, but one very wise therapist friend told me that I was reducing stress, but improving my cognitive skills, such as memory and auditory processing, which is precious at my age. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, itâs a real âode to joyâ indeed.
Tech enthusiast and digital strategist with over a decade of experience in transforming ideas into impactful solutions.