One often feel like a coiled spring after work. My shoulders grow tense, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Usually, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut used to lead to 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, a few months ago, I discovered my now-adult son’s old school recorder 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 piercing shriek still reverberating through my head hours after he had gone to bed.
Instead of throwing it away, I brought it downstairs, along with a book – Very Easy Recorder Tunes. As a child, I had no musical talent whatsoever. I’d had recorder lessons at infant school, yet never got to try other instruments.
Googling “how to play the recorder”, 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. 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 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 breathing slowed down, I was focused, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I was overjoyed. I could play an instrument.
Now, after some months, I can “play” other nursery rhymes and a decent Ode to Joy. Yes, my timing is rubbish, and I must jot down note names, but to me, it’s not about being skilled or 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 learned that few kids play the recorder today, which probably relieves parents, yet it made me wistful for my school years, and my son’s childhood.
I make it a habit to play each night after work as my first activity, and during those 20 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 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 a real “ode to joy” indeed.
Elara Vance is a seasoned business analyst with over a decade of experience covering international markets and industrial transformations.