Sometimes We Forget Things

by Dian Reid-Jancic· Follow Dian on

Last year we bought a house. We packed our things and checked our lists. We hired movers and told them what to load and where to unload it. We bought new things we never needed before like bedroom and office rugs, a washer & dryer set, and garage door openers for our key rings. What we didn’t do was change our address with the DMV. Apparently this is important to them, as I found out on Wednesday evening.

I went to my local(ish) ICF Chapter Meeting up in Culver City. I told Erin I would call her on my way home, since I hadn’t seen her since she left the house at 7AM that morning (and even after 2 1/2 years, the sound of her voice gives me butterflies). Bluetooth in ear, conversation in tow, I crossed through a yellow-lighted intersection on Centinela, ready to make a left onto the 405 freeway a block or so ahead. In my rear view mirror I see a car pull out of a driveway with no lights on. A police car.

The headlights pop on behind me and I quickly check my speed. 37ishMPH in a 35. That can’t be it. Did I run that light back there? I thought it was yellow… The car pulls up close behind me, but no flashing lights. It pulls into the next lane. Whew, I’m not getting pulled over. I turn my blinker on and begin to get into the left turn lane. The car swings over behind me and flashes its blue and red and white lights. “Fuck. I gotta go, I’m getting pulled over.”

When the officer asked if I knew why he pulled me over, I told him I had no idea. Expired tags. What? No that can’t be right, I always pay my registration. I pulled out my registration card, and lo-and-behold, it was from the previous year. Since I’m no longer in the habit of getting pulled over (invite me to coffee sometime, and I’ll share those stories with you), I had no oh-please-officer-you-don’t-really-want-to-give-me-that-ticket-do-you? spiel rehearsed. While he wrote out my ticket back in his car, I sat in the driver’s seat and cried.

How could I be so stupid? How could I forget something so important? How could I be so irresponsible? And 20 more questions with the same debilitating, limiting beliefs. When the officer came back with my ticket, I wiped my tears and tried to compose myself well enough to hold whatever conversation he needed to have with me. I signed, and he asked if my address was still on ____ Street. I said yes, he handed me my ticket and gave me instructions as to how to take care of it, since it was just a fix-it ticket. It wasn’t until I got home and looked at my registration again that I realized I’d confirmed the wrong address: I live on the same street in the same city as I did when that registration was valid, just a mile or so down the street now.

Another onslaught of all the things that must be wrong with me in order to let all this happen.

I tossed and turned the whole night and slept terribly. And while I managed to make a productive day out of yesterday, it really wasn’t until I sat down to write this post that I felt completely at ease with the whole situation.

The Facts::

I changed my address with the Post Office. I forgot to change my address with the DMV. The Post Office does not forward DMV documents. I did not know this. Without the notice to pay my registration, I forgot and did not pay my registration.

I forgot to do something important. I am not stupid. I am not irresponsible. There is nothing wrong with me.

What’s Next::

I can’t change what already happened, I can only move forward from the space I am currently in. That space has me paying my registration. There may be late fees involved, and that’s okay: I’m paying it late. There will be a $25 fee for getting the ticket in the first place, and that’s okay: I’m taking care of it now.

Erin said to me last night, “I’m proud of you for making a productive day of it today. I can remember a time when you might have let the ticket ruin your day, and not gotten anything done.” It pained me a little bit to hear that. I wished she would have left it at, “I’m proud of you.” Sometimes in my mind I believe that I’ve always been able to push beyond the past and deal strictly with reality and moving forward. But the reality is that she’s right. And that’s the past.

So now, even with a little pang of being reminded that I wasn’t always as perfect as I am now (BAAHAHAHAHAAA!), I’m grateful for the learning. Her words help me see that the growth I’ve had hasn’t been just in my head, but in my being, as it shows up in my actions. As I look at today, I’m proud to say that I’m walking my talk, even if I forget things sometimes. It feels kind of nice.

Where have you walked your talk recently?

Photo courtesy: http://www.flickr.com/photos/webhostingreview/ / CC BY 2.0 via Creative Commons License
  • it is a moving story… not so much because of the story… that just happens as part of our life… it moves me how honest you are… like a fresh breeze. Be well.

  • Pingback: Tweets that mention Sometimes We Forget Things | Dian Reid — Authentic Realities -- Topsy.com()

  • Thank you so much for this comment, Gila Joy. I hope to “see” you here again soon =)

  • Square-Peg Karen

    Agree with Gila Joy, your honesty and wide-open heart and mind (always willing to learn – to tell) feel “like a fresh breeze” – sorry not to add anything new to the comments, but Gila Joy nailed it!

  • I've been so absent from the blogosphere and am just now catching up on all your posts. I, like many others who posted comments, appreciate your honesty. It is comforting to know that we all share the experience of being human and in that humanity, we forget, we make mistakes and we try–some days harder than other days–to learn from all of it. Blessings to you for sharing your humanity with all of us.

  • kellyg1137

    A.) Thank you for reminding me that MY registration is due this month. I had forgotten.

    B.) “Where have you walked your talk recently?” … Yesterday, when I experienced the little People-Pleaser inside me, I stopped and became mindful of how I felt about the situation. I realized I’d done what truly honored who I am. I then felt ease.

Previous post:

Next post:

© Authentic Realities 2009-2013 (All content unless otherwise noted). All Rights Reserved.