Then it hit me: I don’t have the make it to the top of that hill! The top of that hill isn’t my destination. My destination is to have an enjoyable outing with my daughter. If that means poking around in the same muddy puddle for ten minutes, so be it. If it means standing absolutely still and watching the sky, that’s okay. When I surrender to my child's pace and breathe deeply rather than fume, I find the peace that so frequently eludes me. I remember that often the journey is the destination.