On any given day this time last year…   I am walking my daughter the two blocks to pre-school. She is taking her time, pausing to look at flowers and marvel at squirrels. I gently pull her along, saying, “Come on sweetie,” every other minute. She is right there, content in the moment. I am nowhere to be found, my mind running in a dozen different directions much like the squirrels she is watching flit from tree to tree. My breath is in my chest, my shoulders are tight, my stomach in a knot. Some part of me is aching as I watch myself half-drag my little one to school.   There has to be another way.   The feeling of hurrying stays with me throughout…