Last Saturday, I asked my 94-year-old mother what she had for breakfast.

She paused and said with complete sincerity,
"I forgot to remember."

And honestly… I didn’t know whether to laugh, put it on a T-shirt, or adopt it as my personal life motto.

At 94, she’s earned the right to forget a few things. Breakfast, lunch, or even a thought.

It got me thinking...there’s a beautiful kind of freedom in forgetting to remember. Less stress, fewer worries, and a perfect built-in excuse for pretty much everything.