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Writer's pictureAmber Ambrose

Finding Love In The Department of Motor Vehicles


My driver's license expired on my birthday, August 11. Not only did it expire, but it was time for me to renew in person, get a new photo and head to the infamous Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV).


Last week, I made an appointment, with plenty of hope in my heart and a good book in my purse to help pass the time. I walked in around five minutes before my appointment slot, checked in at the kiosk, filled out the appropriate forms and sat in a crowded, noisy and chaotic waiting area along with at least 70 of my fellow humans with no idea how long I'd be there.


As I waited, alternating between an audiobook and my actual book, I consciously allowed the discomfort of being in a strange place with no certain end, flanked by strangers, inundated with strange stimuli to rise to the surface. And then I realized, we're all waiting for the same things: For our number to be called. To do things that need to be done. To get in and get out and get on with our lives. To do what we think is the right thing. To follow the rules. To take responsibility for ourselves.


As the discomfort lingered, I began to ask myself a question: Can you see underneath the surface of this setting? What is at work here, spiritually? As a tarot reader, and a lover of symbols and depth, I know there's always another story unfolding beneath the voice of the ego, and it's usually one of purpose and flow and meaning. I was determined to find it.


Taking a few deep breaths, removing my headphones and closing my eyes for a moment, I reopened them to sense the fact that all the employees were here at a place where they probably have to deal with a lot of unprepared people, some who don't speak the same language, some who are angry and upset for having to wait, some who are afraid and nervous, some who simply haven't been taught how to kindly interact with others. I realized these employees had all shown up to do their job today, like they do most every other day, providing a service, collecting a paycheck to help support themselves and possibly their families. Those here to work were here for a reason. If I drilled down under the surface deep enough, I could feel that that reason was love. Love for supporting themselves, and perhaps their families. Some love may have even extended to their fellow human beings in the waiting area.


Then I surveyed those in the waiting area and noticed how many people came with others, in pairs and groups, presumably family members or friends. The realization that love was deeply ingrained here was even more obvious: A parent with a child getting their permit or license; a child with a parent (and even possibly some grandparents) to act as a translator; a spouse there for moral and even physical support; an entire family with a baby in a stroller. Everyone had gathered together to provide support, transportation and underneath it all, love.


This year, I hope to challenge myself to look deeper more often, especially when I'm faced with uncertainty, inconvenience, annoyance and especially discomfort. What's the real story underneath it all? If I can remove the layers of expectation and self-centeredness, what would I find? And perhaps I'll surprise myself again. I certainly didn't expect to see the deep layers of love flowing in the DMV, and yet, it was there, as it always has been and always will be.



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