I shovelled my neighbours walk yesterday. Not the older couple to the east whose walk I shovel with joy knowing I’m easing their burden. It was already shoveled by the time I got back from a meeting and got to shoveling mine. And of course, the neighbour on the other side of our house hadn’t shoveled hers. She ‘never’ does. At least not until its piled up and pounded down and icy and is dangerous to everyone passing by.

I didn’t want to shovel hers. My facile mind danced around the thinking about how she ‘never’ does it. Is always the last one on the block. Why should I help her?

Because I’m committed to making a difference. I’m committed to living from my heart, not my head’s judgmental dictates that measures the world in good deed/bad people, doling out reward for those who play by my rules while punishing those who can’t get it right by my standards.

I had to get out of my own way to shovel it. I had to get out of my head and into my heart.

And so I filled my heart with gratitude for the opportunity to be of service and kept my mind out of it. I shoveled and was grateful for the opportunity to be of service to someone who left that morning earlier than I did and wouldn’t be home until much later. It was nice to know she’d be surprised to see a SnowAngel visited while she was gone.

And seriously? It took all of three minutes to do her stretch of sidewalk.

And when I was done, I looked down the avenue to the east and every walk was cleared all the way to the corner. And I looked to the west, and every walk was cleared, all the way to the corner.

And I felt better knowing that whomever walked along our avenue could do so on sidewalks that were cleared of snow and safe to walk on.

I liked the difference that made to my community.