Many of my long-time readers will know that I love journalling, and I love calendars! They all call out to my pen, asking for attention. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned my line-a-day-five-year-calendar. It’s a journal and calendar in one that satisfies my ever-present curiosity about what’s the same and what’s different over time. The other morning, as I was jotting down the day’s activities, I noted that Wendell had renewed his Driver’s License one year ago and since I couldn’t remember how many years it was for and Wendell’s birthday had past twenty days ago, I encouraged him to check his license.
Several minutes after minding his business, I realized I should mind my own.
Slipping my license out of its special slot in my billfold, I was horrified to discover I’d been driving for several months with an expired license. How could I have been so careless! All these years, I’ve tried to be a good citizen, following rules, always fearing that messing up spelled disaster. My heart sunk, and I felt certain I was really going to be in trouble. I did a quick Internet search to discover the penalty for my misdemeanor. As I waited for the DMV website to load, I was already sure that I’d be forced to take not only the written, but the driving test as well! Another element of my punishment would be failing the eye exam. I would never drive again.
When the website finally loaded, I was happily surprised that there weren’t any penalties and I’d only have to pass the eye exam, as usual. When I saw the first available appointment wasn’t for over two weeks, I dutifully vowed not to drive until I got it renewed and rearranged everything on my schedule so I wouldn’t be driving without a valid license. To be honest, this wasn’t much of a sacrifice for me, because I don’t like driving all that much. It was only the thought of never driving again that felt disastrous.
When appointment day arrived, Wendell drove us over there and we found the place packed. Finding the last two seats, we settled in for a long wait. I clutched in my hand the paper with a letter and number that I’d generated from a machine right inside the door, which I’d almost rushed by in my haste to get this ordeal over.
Sitting there, imagining the nerve-wracking eye exam to come, I didn’t hear my number on the loudspeaker. Only eight minutes had passed when Wendell alerted me it was my turn. I walked to the counter, luckily only a few feet away. I was sure the clerk was going to scold me for my dereliction, but he didn’t say anything about my license being expired or ask me if I’d been driving. I was so happy that I complimented him on his emerald green shirt.
Passing the eye exam was a struggle. At one point, he asked if I could see the numbers to the left. I couldn’t! He suggested pressing my forehead more firmly on the little bar and there they were. I still mostly had to guess, but he seemed satisfied with my answers. I handed over $8.00, exact change, and Wendell and I got out of there.
Why did I worry so much? And what will my line-a-day calendar teach me today?
IMAGE: If I’d slowed down and connected to my soul, I might have known everything would turn out okay. Photo from my files that I’ve been waiting to use.
