Leaping Without A Net
It has been a long time since I have written an entry in this seldom read blog. And the only thing that inspired me to write this particular entry is the tragic loss of the one person who read my blog consistently. The one person who sent me written responses to my entries, who expressed the way she felt and thought about what I wrote. Some of her responses were longer than the actual blog entry, and always a perfect blend of logic and emotion. Always signed "Burdock" at the end. She was Julie Burdick.
When Julie passed away in late January, news of her untimely death spread quickly. People were reaching out to one another and mourning together in a way that was unfamiliar to me. I had never experienced a loss like this one, someone so young and vibrant, so full of energy and charisma, such a positive spirit-suddenly, sadly, gone. The following week was filled with tears, phone calls, travel arrangements, and splashes of laughter when someone remembered a funny story, a brief moment in time that was shared with Julie, something to help ease the pain, to lessen the blow of the fact that we would not be creating any more memories with her. The wake and funeral came and went, and we all struggled to get back to living our lives in the way Julie did, with passion and compassion, without fear of failure.
Today I came across a card. The Christmas card she sent me this year was, as always, adorned with stickers and squiggly lines, and bearing a quote: "Leap and the net will appear"- Zen saying. How fitting that the last quote I would receive from her would address the way I have felt and the struggles I have faced since her passing; fearful. We all encounter fear, and I have grown to be adept at evading it’s imposing presence. In avoiding dealing with my fear, however, I now see that I have only allowed it to grow stronger, to hold more control over my thoughts and my actions, and in a way-to enslave me.
I am now in the process of facing my fears, and the first thing I realized is that what I thought was my biggest fear- facing my own mortality- plays second fiddle to another fear, one that came true when Julie died. What I fear most is losing those close to me, those I love and those who have made a profound impact on my life. Having recognized this, I have set out on my own spiritual journey, searching (as we all are) for the answers to life’s questions. This is no easy endeavor. It means questioning and coming to an understanding of values, beliefs, and faith, reading and listening to the wisdom imparted by the worlds religions and spiritual leaders- it means coming face to face with impermanence, and accepting it. It means preparing in this life for what the next life holds for us. It means leaping without a net. And I don’t think I’d have made the leap without Julie. Not just her death and what it meant to me, but her life and what it meant to everyone who was a part of it. She 
made the leap every day, and she inspired courage, love, and generosity of spirit in me and many others. We love you Julie, and when we seek an example of how we should live, your life fits the bill. Although I know I will not receive a written reply from you about this blog, I don’t need one. You have given me enough…
April 10th, 2007 at 10:09 pm
that was beautiful. and perfectly written. her life truly was an inspiration to me, and us, and even in her death, she is teaching us everyday. she really hasn’t left us … and i thank God that we have all had each other to hold onto, to talk to, to laugh with, to cry with, and to grieve with. thank you for so eloquently putting that into words. i love you, and i’m so glad you are in my life.
d’nly.