I often feel as tense as a wound-up clock after work. My shoulders grow tense, breathing becomes rapid and shallow. Usually, the sound of my laptop lid slamming shut would be followed by the pop of a cork from a wine bottle, the wine hastily sploshed into a glass, that first mouthful putting a much-needed full stop on the working day.
Then, a few months ago, I discovered my now-adult son’s old school recorder up in the loft. I idly blew into it, instantly reminded of the time 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.
But rather than consigning it to the bin, I took it down, together with a beginner’s songbook. As a child, I was the least musical child ever. I took recorder classes in primary school, yet never got to try 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, 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 seemed like a major triumph.
My son questioned my actions (and begged me to quit), but I persevered – I liked the way the recorder made me feel. My inability to remember anything forced me to focus on the music sheet, and carefully mimic the finger placements. My breathing slowed down, my attention sharpened, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I felt euphoric. 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 must jot down note names, but for 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 was no doubt music to parents’ ears, but it made me a little sad and nostalgic for my own school days, as well as my son’s.
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 find it amusing, but one very wise therapist friend told me that I was reducing stress, and boosting mental skills, such as memory and auditory processing, which is invaluable at my time of life. And in terms of my day-to-day wellbeing, it’s truly an ode to joy.
