When Tim offered me Saturday 17th as the date to offer my post-dharma transmission talk at City Center, I of course said yes… and I knew I had a wedding scheduled in the afternoon. My initial thought was that I could ride over to City Center, give the talk, come back home for lunch, then drive down the peninsula to the venue (which was not as far as the previous Saturday’s wedding). Then I checked my notes and discovered that this wedding was at 1:30 – all my other currently booked ones are for late afternoon times.
The only way would be to drive over to Page St, then head straight out of the city after giving the talk. Tim kindly arranged a spot in the 340 garage, and said we didn’t need to have a question and answer session after the talk. We were on.
Then I discovered that the 101 southbound would be completely closed around Potrero Hill – it would not have been my first choice of route, but as a useful alternative, since it is quick to get on the 101 from Zen Center. There would also be a No Kings March starting from Dolores Park in the afternoon, which would impact my first choice route, going down Guerrero to reach the 280. I was mildly concerned.
I was reminded of the day I managed to officiate two weddings in one day, though those were both in the city, and I think I was able to ride to both fairly easily.
In the end, the logistics were the hardest thing to navigate: I had my robes plus my kotsu, and dharma talk script on the one hand; my suit, with tie, extra handkerchief (I have learned to have a clean one on hand to offer to the bride or groom if tears start welling up during the ceremony), and other script (which I had printed out along with last week’s) on the other; plus, lunch, snacks, and water, as it was due to be the last of the hot days.
I had time to watch a football match before leaving. At nine on a Saturday morning, there is no real volume of traffic, so it was easy to get to Page St. Much less easy to get the sizeable car through the narrow door to the 340 garage – the first car inside also had a bike rack sticking out the back which made it seem ever narrower.
The first part of the talk wasn’t so smooth. I had checked that I could once again do prostrations without going down on one knee first, which thankfully I can, but the new brown okesa sits differently to the old black one, with the knot a little higher on the left shoulder, and the over-the-shoulder corner more likely to fall forward, which I never like. Then I managed to knock the kotsu off the zabuton as I was settling into my seat, and finally, the new little mic pinged off as I tired to clip it on my collar, and rolled along the floor, so someone had to retrieve it for me.
Once I started talking, I felt fine, though. I managed to say everything I intended to, with some extemporisation built in, and going with the flow rather than sticking entirely to the script, so I was happy with how it turned out. I was able to mention two people in the room (without identifying them) whose generosity had been most touching. There was also time to field one question from the floor, which came from a long time sangha member, and helped me articulate another angle as well.
Then a quick change, pausing to say hello and thank you to some people on the way out, a fifteen-point turn to get out of the garage, and then the road south. There was, I was glad to see, no additional traffic on my route, beyond the crowds shopping at Daly City and heading to the airport, so I was very early down at Cañada Road. I stopped to eat the lunch I had brought, changed into my suit, and drove into Filoli, which I have ridden past a number of times but never visited.
It was hot, but luckily our location was well-shaded. The staff were super helpful, and I chatted with the photographer and the harpist while we waited for the two families to arrive – the staff had refered to it as an elopement, and only eight chairs were set out.
Which is just as well, as the bride, coming over the 92 from Half Moon Bay got stuck not just behind traffic from the famous pumpkin festival, but also a crash on the narrow highway over the hill. She called the photographer, and spoke with me as well, hugely apologetic. It was all fine; we were in a beautiful place, having a perfectly nice time, and ready for whenever. Plus, as I said at one point, all weddings have something go wrong at some point.
When we did get underway, it was a very sweet ceremony (although the handkerchief was not needed). It turns out they had also forgotten to bring the license, so they drove up to the city on Sunday – when I had nothing planned except for my bike ride – to hand it over.
Leave a Reply