Lena is a seasoned sports analyst with over a decade of experience in betting strategies and statistical modeling.
I often feel as tense as a wound-up clock once the workday ends. Tension grips my shoulders, my breath turns fast and shallow. Usually, closing my laptop with a thud would be followed by 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, several months back, 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.
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’d had recorder lessons at infant school, but never had the opportunity to learn other instruments.
Googling “how to play the recorder”, I watched dozens of YouTube videos aimed at children, and printed out a fingering chart. Looking up simple recorder songs, and was thrilled when I managed to knock out a passable Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Admittedly, a typical young child could learn it quickly, yet for a stressed, impatient, musically-challenged adult, it seemed like a major triumph.
My son questioned my actions (and begged me to quit), but I kept going – I enjoyed the sensation the recorder gave me. Forgetting notes easily forced me to focus on the music sheet, and painstakingly copy the finger positions. My breath calmed, my attention sharpened, and once I’d mastered that first faltering tune, I felt euphoric. I had managed to play music.
Today, after some months, I can handle other children’s songs and a passable Ode to Joy. Sure, my timing is rubbish, and I still need to write the names of the notes down, but for 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 probably relieves parents, but it made me a little sad and nostalgic for my own school days, as well as my son’s.
I make it a habit to play each night after work as my first activity, and in those 20 or so minutes, I am in my own little world. And afterwards, I feel refreshed and happy.
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 precious at my age. For daily wellness, it’s a real “ode to joy” indeed.
Lena is a seasoned sports analyst with over a decade of experience in betting strategies and statistical modeling.