At the front of my house, there is a stone pathway that runs alongside my driveway. For most of the summer, it has been more weeds than walkway, and as much as I’ve tried to give myself some grace about it, I hated looking at it. It was like this visual reminder of all the ways that I was failing. In my head, when we had purchased the house last fall, the walkway was this beautiful pristine path that I had since neglected. So, as I sat on my step one day in late July, I yanked out a weed. And then another. It was strangely fulfilling. I know there…