Embracing Our One Certainty
In my quest to do 52 things (aka Gulps) in 52 weeks that take me into the unknown, uncertain and uncomfortable, I went to a Death Cafe to face our universal, inescapable certainty.
A Death Cafe is a gathering of people, often strangers, coming together to have a cuppa and discuss death. It’s a global movement that began 2011, created by Jon Underwood based on the Swiss Cafe Mortel movement. Jon felt that in the western society, discussions of death only happened with medical professionals, priests and undertakers and as a result we have relinquished control of one of the most significant events. He and his wife Sue produced a guide to running your own death cafe. Since then, hundreds of people have been hosting them around the world.
The objective is 'to increase awareness of death with a view to helping people make the most of their (finite) lives'. It’s a facilitated group discussion, with no fixed agenda. It’s not about grief support or counselling. The only rule is, there has to be cake. I am so down with that.
I heard about them a while back but had forgotten until I read an article in the Guardian about someone who had gone to a Death Cafe:
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2025/jun/11/a-moment-that-changed-me-i-went-to-a-death-cafe-and-learned-how-to-live-a-much-happier-life
A quick Google and I found one taking place in North Sydney Community Centre. These are not a permanent cafe, they are pop-ups and arranged meet ups.
I rocked up with five others and Isla, the celebrant who was guiding our session. After an introduction to Death Cafes and her background, Isla began with an opening frame and invitation to share. It was asking whether we had lost someone close to us, and what, if anything, had been a takeaway, a lesson or a positive from it. The discussion then flowed from there, gentle shifting directions, with the occasional question if we had anything we wanted to bring up.
I did. I have long felt deeply aware of my own mortality, and it felt like a weight. Not because I fear death. And it does drive me to live my life the way I do, to make the most of it. But the weight is there. Through the discussion, I was able to reframe it - the blessing that it is, how it drives me. To hold hands with my mortality rather feel its weight.
We talked about everything from experiences of losing loved ones, to burial vs cremation, things on our mind, and support that’s available. There was tenderness, laughter and lightness. We also talked about fears of getting older and being alone, but also ways to navigate that. It was a gently profound session and I left feeling lighter. I am SO glad I went.
I think death is something we should talk about more, not in a morose way, but in an accepting way, to draw lessons from and use it to fuel us to live our lives to the fullest. The author of the article above reflected on her visit to a Death Cafe: I feel more alive than ever for doing so. I felt the same. And not only that, being open about death better positions us to support each other when death impacts our lives.
Rebecca Paterson, who works for Good Life Good Death Good Grief said."I've heard of people saying that death can be a really special time. Imagine that – how differently we would all feel about it if that could be the case?"
This trip to the Death Cafe has shone a light on something I didn’t want to look at. Life many fears, by shining a light on it, we take away its negative power.. As well as now making friends with my mortality, the burden has gone, and now death isn’t a topic I shy away from.
Another unexpectedly impactful Gulp. Have you been to a Death Cafe? What was your experience like?
Sarah x
