When I was growing up, one of the cardinal rules in my house was: “Don’t touch the record player.” It was an intricate piece of machinery, not fit for childish fingers. So I would stare at it from across the room in an attempt to learn its secrets.
I guessed that there were little people inside the speakers who sang the songs. And I knew the black, plastic records told them what to sing. But for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how that worked because all the records looked the same!
Now that I’m older, I have a better understanding of how record players work, but that doesn’t make them less magical.
Strangely, my favorite part of listening to records comes before the music begins to play. There is a ritual involved in getting notes to come from those hard vinyl discs, which I love.
First, I go to my record stand and select an album for my listening pleasure. Sometimes, I already know which one I’m looking for. Other times, I just know that I want to listen to something, but the exact choice hasn’t revealed itself to me.
In those moments, a particular album cover might jump out at me, or one album might feel slightly different from the others in my hand.
When I make my selection, I carefully remove the album from its sleeve, taking a moment to look over the liner notes before I place the record on the turntable.
Then I use the lift arm to raise the stylus. I wait a moment for the record to begin spinning on the platter and then I carefully move the stylus so that it hovers over the outside edge of the record.
Finally, I lower the lift arm and watch as the stylus slowly drops onto the record. Usually, there are a few moments of silence as the stylus works its way inward until the music finally begins to play.
It sounds trite, but I always get a small feeling of satisfaction when the music starts. I imagine it’s similar to what Aladdin felt when he rubbed the lamp and a genie suddenly appeared.
There are a lot of rules and rituals involved in listening to records. They must be stored safely, in a cool, dry place. Not following this rule, storing them in a damp basement or a hot car, will cause the albums to warp.
Dropping the stylus haphazardly on the record without using the lift arm can scratch the album. And touching the center of the record can leave oils and fingerprints in the record’s grooves.
One or all of these things combined will result in a veritable treasure box of music being reduced to an expensive paperweight!
But if the rules and rituals are followed, then there are endless hours of joy and entertainment to be had.
Buddhism is similar in that way. There are countless rules and regulations that one must follow when they enter a Buddhist temple. We are told how to walk, how to chant, and even how to eat!
This can be frustrating and overwhelming if we don’t understand the purpose of these restrictions. However, in the same way that we must abide by certain rules to not damage records and record players, the same is true of Dharma practice.
The rules that we encounter in a Buddhist temple are put in place to help us mimic the path the Buddha walked with his disciples as he led them to enlightenment.
We walk as they walked, we speak as they spoke, and when we sit down for meals, we eat as they ate. Doing this helps us to embody the “music” of Dharma practice, playing the notes in each moment of our lives.
And once we learn to live by the rules of the temple, we can bring the practice into our daily life. Of course, that doesn’t mean that as laypeople we wear robes or shave our heads. Buddhists aren’t expected to sit in noble silence when they eat dinner with their families.
But it does mean that as we learn the basics of Buddhist ideology and the importance of generosity, patience, and wisdom. Then we can live by these ideals when we’re cooking, cleaning, driving to work, or doing any of the myriad tasks that daily life requires.
As we do this, the music of our lives becomes more apparent with each passing moment. Our footsteps become a drum beat. Our voices become a melody. And the sounds of our environment are a raucous chorus. The rules of Buddhadharma help us appreciate these rhythms and live in tune with them.
Eventually, life feels less like a struggle and more like a pleasant evening spent on the couch, listening to records.
Namu Amida Butsu
Related features from BDG
Take Down a Musical Instrument
The Music of Interconnection: Reflections on “Circle”
Engaged Buddhism: The Role of Spirituality and Faith in a Divided World
Buddhist Death Rituals: For the Living – Not for the Dead
