There have been those embarrassing occasions when I was unsure of where I parked in a multi level garage. One time at the airport I was in such a hurry to meet someone I barely turned the key before leaping out and hoofing it to the terminal. It was distressing to have picked her up and then after a long flight made her wander through three levels of cars before I finally found mine. Not the kind of welcome one hopes for. 

But with the stinging history of those debacles, now I try to pay closer attention to precisely where I left it. Notice the numbers. The floor, the position, any identifiable landmarks. Then when I am safely back in my vehicle, I wipe the memory clean of what is now superfluous information.

This morning I bought a smoothie at my favorite spot. The cashier made a note of the cash I handed her, and what the change would be. When the bills and coins were in my hands, she erased the transaction from her overstuffed brain, and cheerfully asked the next person in line what he wanted. There was no need to cling to old tallies. There were new customers eager for sandwiches. 

The other day I was regurgitating an obsolete memory of a time someone criticized me. The words somersaulted in my brain, and I could not forget them. Never mind that the conflict happened fifteen years ago. I recalled it, as if, well, it mattered. Which is doesn't. 

Why do I let such clutter clog up my thinking, making less room for more vibrant sources of energy? Like the little girl who showed me her rainbow socks today. Or the apples in the bowl on the counter just begging to be made into a warm crisp. They are fresh, and will snap with a pleasing crunch when I bite. I know there is brown sugar and cinnamon in the pantry. It would be a delightful surprise at dinner. No need to look up the recipe. I know it by heart. 

Some things are absolutely worth remembering. The smiles at my daughter's wedding two years ago. The chords to the music I will play in church on Sunday. The reasons I hold on to for getting out of bed each morning. 

But I can forget the annoying diatribe.