Hosted by Robin Taft and Nancy Scarcello

This Death Cafe has taken place

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About this Death Cafe

We came. We sat. We ate cake...and we talked about Death. The white haired gentleman at the end of the table was silent for a long time. Then someone gently prodded and pearls of elder wisdom fell from his lips. The man at the other end of the table carried stones in his pocket for protection, knowing he is a protector of souls in his own right. They anchored the table like bookends as we six women filled the space in between and we all shared our thoughts about Death. Two of the women were nurses and dealt with death's imminence in their daily rounds. Another woman talked about losing her Mother and the urge to call her to tell about the owl who crossed her path. The conversation turned to totem animal medicine and visitations from loved ones through animals and Nature. We shared concerns about our own aging and decline and the inevitable question of "What will happen to me?" We talked about how we would like to die and what we thought we might want done with our remains. One of the questions used to prompt dialog asked if we thought Death was joyful or sorrowful. A few of us answered with a resounding "Yes!". And such is a Death Cafe.
The first Death Cafe was held by Jon Underwood of Hackney, East London in September 2011. "In 2010 Jon was developing a series of projects about Death one of which was to focus on talking about Death." He was inspired by the work of Bernard Crettaz and the idea for Death Cafe was born. Death Cafe is not a support group, or a counseling session. It's not a workshop or seminar. No one is going to try to sell you a coffin or a headstone or a belief system. Death Cafe is a safe and sacred space for people to gather and talk about one of the most feared subjects of our lives...Death. I spoke to a man who said "I don't understand why anyone would want to get together and talk about Death?". I answered from my own perspective that I am fascinated by Death and the myriad questions it provokes and how afraid we are of it. Then he told of his Father's stroke and how afterward all his friends disappeared, perhaps fearful of their own mortality in witnessing their friend's debilitation. The friend they knew was gone and they were grieving. When his Father did die they rented a yacht and had a big party to disperse his ashes out on the ocean. Joyful...and sorrowful. "You would have a lot to contribute," I said. "Okay", he replied,"Send me a reminder...I'll come."
Please join Robin Taft and me as we create sacred space once again for a public gathering of intrepid souls to talk about Death. Bring an open heart, a listening ear, and a sweet tooth...there will always be cake.