"I'm like a coiled spring after work. Shoulders tense, breath 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, a few months ago, I came across my now-adult son's old school recorder in the attic."
"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. My inability to remember anything meant I had to concentrate on the sheet of paper in front of me and painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breathing slowed down, I was focused, and once I'd mastered that first faltering tune, I felt euphoric."
I am tense after work, previously used wine to switch off, but discovered my adult son's recorder in the attic. I started learning to play despite being tone-deaf and having recorder lessons only in infancy. I used YouTube videos and a fingering chart to learn simple tunes, and managed Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Learning required concentration, slowed my breathing and reduced stress, producing euphoria on success. My son objected but I persisted because playing brought pleasure. Several months later I can play nursery rhymes and a passable Ode to Joy despite poor timing and reliance on written notes.
Read at www.theguardian.com
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