The unexpected comfort of taking a seat at a Death Cafe
Talking about death is rarely easy, and you might think doing it with a group of strangers would be even harder – but perhaps in some ways, it’s easier. That’s part of what is special at Death Cafes, where people come together to talk – or sometimes, just listen, whatever feels right – about death, grief or end-of-life planning. It might sound morbid, but those who host them say they can be uplifting, freeing and even help participants embrace life and change in a new way. “Broadly speaking a Death Cafe is a safe and accepting place for people to come to speak about all things that are related to end of life – theirs or someone they know,” says Angela Mizinska, an end-of-life doula who hosts monthly free community Death Cafes, and Life and Death Cafes, in Sydney’s inner west. “Most people don’t know we exist,” she says, explaining what an end-of-life doula does. “We offer non-medical and non-clinical support to those who are nearing the end of life – in effect, we are a bridge between the medical support team and the dying person and their family.”
While the Death Cafe movement is an international one – the Death Cafe website, which was launched in 2011, has listed more than 18700 events in 90 countries – there are also similar events operating under other names, all aimed at facilitating discussions around the death. Many of them take place on Dying to Know Day, held annually on August 8 in Australia, to encourage conversations about and around death.
Mizinska says conversations at a Death Cafe can range from “getting your affairs in order” – legal paperwork such as advanced care directives, for example, or funeral planning – to talking about loved ones who have died and the grief that brings (including pets: Mizinska is also a pet bereavement counsellor. “It’s such an overlooked and disenfranchised grief that pet guardians face and this work is very close to my heart,” she says).
The Death Cafe is an ingenious idea because it recognises that talking about death and dying is hard to do; it makes us uncomfortable. So, to do it, let’s make you as comfortable as possible as we dive in.
“Small groups create the perfect intimate environment where everyone can participate in the conversation, should they wish to and there is never any pressure for people to do so. Many people who have attended my events have commented that they have experienced a positive shift in their grief journey by simply having the opportunity to be seen and heard. It really is beautiful to witness.” Ali Mills, a Brisbane-based grief and loss counsellor working with Grief Australia and in her private practice. Grief Guide, has been both an attendee and a host.
“Each Death Cafe is different. My first Death Cafe was one that I attended at a conference many years ago, and as such it was filled with allied health professionals (counsellors, social workers, psychologists, etc.) You would think that this would mean that this Cafe would be a piece of cake (pardon the pun), however, it was here that I realised that despite working with people and their feelings, we as a culture are deeply uncomfortable in talking about grief and loss.
“There is purposefully no agenda or structure to the session beyond that, and the group will decide where the conversation goes. The Cafe is not therapy and it’s not facilitated, even when it’s run by professionals in the grief space.
“Of course, given that I am a grief, loss, and bereavement counsellor, often this means that people might feel more comfortable to ‘go there’, but this is not always the case. We might talk about a particular loss experience or sometimes we talk about just how strange it is and scary to be talking about dying.”
Are these conversations made a little easier by having a warm cuppa in hand, or talking over a meal?
“I often think about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, and how we need to prioritise our physiological needs (food, water, warmth and rest) before we can engage in higher-level work. Before we can even consider getting uncomfortable, we must feel safe enough to do so,” Mills says.
“I think therefore that the Death Cafe is an ingenious idea because it recognises that talking about death and dying is hard to do; it makes us uncomfortable. So, to do it, let’s make you as comfortable as possible as we dive in.
While these gatherings may focus on death, they can also sometimes help us appreciate life.
“Additionally, from a practical point of view, having something to hold, having to take a break to sip your coffee or take a bite can be incredibly helpful when you need to catch your breath in challenging moments."
And while these gatherings may focus on death, they can also sometimes help us appreciate life.
When award-winning journalist Ray Martin decided to delve into the topic of death in the three-part series Ray Martin: The Last Goodbye, one of the first segments filmed was a dinner party, where Martin invites some friends and colleagues to dinner “to find out if they are as ill-prepared as I am [to talk about death]”. Martin says one of his motivations in choosing his dinner guests was taking a different look at death, through the eyes of people with different beliefs, ages and backgrounds. The discussion – often lightened with laughter – ranges from where people would like to be laid to rest and what they believe happens after death, to whether they’ve had conversations about their wishes with family members. One of his big takeaways from the death-over-dinner discussion? “Even if you're 35, you really should live every day if it was your last. It's not a dress rehearsal, this is business.” Martin isn’t the only one who finds talking about death difficult but Mills and Mizinska both say there’s a lot to be gained from having these discussions.
Death is so intrinsically linked with life.
"Having open and honest conversations with those we love about these things is our final and loving act to them. When our time comes to die (or we lose capacity) the people who love us will be in a highly emotionally charged place – grieving, perhaps in shock – and if we don't have our wishes recorded and made known, really important decisions for us and about us will need to be made by our loved ones. That's a lot of pressure in an already highly charged situation,” Mizinska says.
Mills says many of us assume we will live long lives, and that end-of-life planning conversations can happen sometime in the future – but talking about it now can help us and our loved ones enormously.
“Death is so intrinsically linked with life. Having time means that we can talk to our loved ones about how they think and feel and what they might wish for if they become unwell or when they die.” And the ways different cultures deal with grief might have something to help all of us. “Western Culture doesn’t do grief well. We have inherited the British ‘stiff upper lip’ ideals, and we allow people to grieve for only as long as the funeral flowers are alive and then the expectation is to put it aside, show up to work and life and be ‘over it,” Mills says. “Grief is not something you get over, rather you find a way to live with it and life grows around grief. For many, this will be a lifelong process of adapting and integrating the loss into life.
“Indigenous Australian culture embraces storytelling and continuing bonds in beautiful ways; acknowledging that death symbolises the end of a life not the end of a relationship and that much comfort can be brought from finding ways to remain connected to a loved one who has died.”
“Spirituality often plays an important part in other cultures’ ways of honouring loss. Rituals and memory-making exercises are incredibly beneficial in being able to make sense of the loss and connecting to the loved one’s life and all the parts of them that exist outside of the circumstances of their death.”
Attending an event like a Death Cafe can be one way to feel more comfortable talking about the options and emotions that surround death. “Sometimes dipping your toe in by attending an event like this can be the start you need to get more ‘death comfortable’," says Mizinska.
Even if a Death Cafe isn’t the right choice for you, Mills encourages us all to think about end-of-life wishes.
“I work with grief, loss and death every day. For me, it’s an absolute privilege to do so, because those experiences are so entwined with love. We feel such sadness because we feel such love. “I would encourage you to look around you at the people you love, whether it be your partner, children, parents, colleagues or friends. If you knew you only had one more day with those people, what would you say? Do you know what they would want to happen if they died? How would you honour them?" “What I have learnt from doing the work that I do is to be present, and to be grateful for the moments I have and to not leave things unsaid.”