Death Café

Aug 13

Recently, I attended my first Death Café. It was a gathering of strangers to discuss life and death over cookies and tea. While conversations are not heavily moderated at Death Café gatherings, there's a shared understanding that death is an inevitable part of life. Adults of all ages at this Death Café included cancer survivors, people who had lost loved ones recently, atheists, and believers alike. Dying is complicated, and it can involve very real and practical things, like illness, money, legal matters, and ethical decisions. This Death Café was hosted by my local library and free to attend. I learned that Death Café gatherings happen all over the world with pretty much the same format of just gathering and talking (yes, there is a Death Cafe website, if you want to find out more). At the door, our hosts greeted us with smiles and showcased a table that featured various "death café reads." The titles of these books give you an idea of the kinds of things you may encounter when you deal with death. I've included a photo of the table here in this post along with the titles you can look up below this essay.

Death as Mystery

Death is one of those mysteries that you can prepare for and so become fearless about when you develop the strength of mind, heart, and spirit. Preparing for death may seem strange, but it is the lack of preparation about death that can prove to be most stressful and frightening. Simply talking about death is a way to prepare for death, and it is a worthwhile pursuit that some people call a Death Café.

The joke is that death is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and each person alive will go through it. It helps to be lighthearted, but the mystery of death can still be uncomfortable until we just start looking into it and compare notes with others. In our culture, we don’t talk about death, and it can be socially awkward to do so. For the longest time, death can seem distant and irrelevant, as if it doesn't apply to us. In this case, when death finally comes, it can be a shock. When a loved one or a pet dies, it can mean the whole world changes. Endings of any kind can be confusing and messy. The grief that follows is necessary and too much to bear alone. I have come to believe that grief is a form of love, and you can grieve about anything coming to an end, especially someone’s life. My friends at the Death Café said that each time we talk about death, we prepare for it. That’s the key: preparation. Be as ready as you can.

So, I say, talk about death. Think about it and get a feel for it, because the death experience has many teachings about how you are connected to life—the things, the activities, the people, your family, your profession, your principles, hopes, and values. Such topics will surface once you begin talking about death with others. Not surprisingly, the thought of dying forces you to confront your own mind: your motivations, your beliefs, fears, and even your past history can come bubbling to the surface. It helps to have professional support sometimes. When you prepare this way, you are making peace with life, getting your life in order, and increasing the likelihood of understanding how your decisions and actions affect others, especially the people you are close to. Imagining your own death is a meditation technique in many traditions. The Stoics of old, for example, practiced spending a night in a cemetery to contemplate death and to discover what truly matters.

In the practice of Qigong, we say things transform rather than simply end. The Daoist roots of Qigong teach that in death is a transformation that returns you to nature and unites you with the source of all things. The teaching is one of acceptance and harmony, which you practice throughout your life. Consciously engaging with this transformation is both an honor and a grace. Preparing for this profound transformation, even simply by taking time to have conversations about it, can reduce stress for you and your loved ones. It can be difficult to get started, but once you begin you realize that preparing yourself and your loved ones can be a way of caring for those you love and making sure you leave love behind when it is time to go (when it's time to transform back into the vastness of nature and existence).

Death Café Takeaways

Per our discussion at the Death Café, these are the things that are helpful:

A spiritual practice helps. A meditation practice is not just for comfort, but it can also provide a way to be present with the challenges of death. A moving meditation practice, such as Qigong, shared in a group can quiet your mind, soothe your nervous system, and give you a way to be with others. Traditionally, Qigong and Tai Chi practices train your nervous system to become less reactive to stressors such as automatic negative thoughts, difficult conversations or the challenge of accepting what is—whether it's facing an opponent in martial arts, dealing with a disease, or even confronting death. You can use Qigong practices to help you become strong in your mind and spirit so that you are prepared for living with mystery and uncertainty in its many forms.

Get help. A death doula is a non-medical companion that can shepherd a dying person and their loved ones through the process. Whether it's in pre-planning, active dying, or after-death matters, death doulas can offer emotional support through challenging conversations, give caregivers a break, help with special projects, and/or help with funerals. You can find doulas via these and other directories:

International End of Life Doula Association

National End of Life Doula Alliance

Read. Besides the books on at the Death Café sign-in table, other book titles came up during the free-form discussion. Books about death are life-changing, and sometimes they give you facts about death and dying that can help you plan and feel less afraid. I am reading a book called Preparing to Die by Andrew Holecek, a no-nonsense account of what it means to care for the dying and how to take care of practical matters as well as emotional and spiritual matters before you die.

Living through the Mystery: Two Stories of Dying

Having a human life is a precious privilege and of great value whatever form it takes. Below I share two personal stories about death and dying.

Being Present

These past few weeks, my brother-in-law, Ralf, is back in the hospital, in intensive care again and now moving to hospice as I write this. He has been dying and has come close to death many times over the past five years. Years ago, as an organ transplant recipient who developed cancer a year after his transplant, his case has provided invaluable learning opportunities for doctors, interns, and nurses at the teaching hospitals where he received care. He has been courageous in enduring pain, bravely undergoing cutting edge treatments and procedures from which he recovered with the help of his wife (my sister), and his practice of meditation, Qigong, and right living, which included acupuncture and being near trees and bodies of water whenever possible. He has been extraordinarily resilient these past five years, outlasting what his oncologist expected. In a way, Ralf has given his body to science while still alive, and his life is a testament to the remarkable ability of Western medicine to bring people back from the brink combined with the supportive practices of Qigong and acupuncture. However, at some point, the body becomes depleted and takes longer and longer to recover. Western science can bring you back one last time, but eventually, the body struggles, begins to shut down, and may even reject artificial supports. This is what Ralf is experiencing now; he is not eating anymore and is having trouble breathing on his own. His body is now unable to do basic things that would otherwise be ordinary and automatic. He is transforming right before our eyes. The family is in constant communication and prayer right now. Once a regular at the weekly community Qigong circle, Ralf had to stop coming to the person because he was too weak to practice. Still connected to the group, even now, at his greatest hour of need, his Qigong practice at this moment is entirely in his mind. Every breath is conscious and precious. Simply being present has been an ordeal that has taken all his strength. So close to death, the mind can get confused and upset, frustrated with not being able to just be and get on with life. This has been hard for Ralf since he has always valued health and mental clarity. His practice is acceptance and love amidst this chaotic natural process of dying. As I write this post, Ralf is very close to completely transforming and returning to nature and becoming one with all that is. Surrounded by loved ones and held in prayer, there is only love and truth and gratitude. A grace that is timeless and ordinary.

Seeing Clearly

My friend B lost two siblings this year. Her sister died at the beginning of the year, and then her brother died a few months later. All that death can transform a person. Open their heart to what matters. Even the person going through death, the one who is dying, can experience extraordinary things. B talked to her siblings often to check in on them, encourage them, and just be with them. She told me an amazing story about her brother having a near death experience days before he died. Before being revived, he had been "gone" for just over four minutes. Though he did not report seeing a tunnel of light or anything like that, he did report having a crystalline experience of being pure awareness and completely conscious of his predicament of being in the hospital, surrounded by machines, witnessing his organs failing and seeing his body suffering… from a distance. He said he just saw everything clearly. He recalled verbatim what the doctors and nurses had said during those four minutes he registered no heartbeat and his caretakers moved to revive him. A day or so later he spoke with my friend B: “Wow, B,” he said, “there was no pain at all during those four minutes! This life and death thing? It's all in your mind," he told her. A few days after this conversation, he died. B was relieved that he finally seemed at peace with what was happening. His pain and suffering had finally ended.

Everyone’s journey is their own. When you die, you do it your way. It is a time of sovereignty and great respect.

Last year, my other brother-in-law, Chris, passed away around this time, and I wrote about it as part of my grieving process (see that blog entry here). Death again, here we are. Transformation swirls in the dazzling mystery of existence, even as the tears well up and fall.