The Art Place Death Cafe
A write up of Chelmsford Death Cafe
Death Café Chelmsford UK
Date & Location
The Art Place Chelmsford. 28/11.25
Attendance
- 5 attendees:
- Of whom 4 were new participants:
- 1 returning participant:
An interesting mix of familiar and new attendees, some of whom were visiting with a view to hosting a Death Café in their local community.
We began with a reminder that this is a confidential space where everyone is free to speak or simply listen.”
We clarified what a Death Café is — an open, respectful space to talk about death — and what it isn’t, ie not therapy, counselling, or a place with an agenda or intended outcomes or product.
Topics Discussed
The conversation touched on Anticipatory grief, a concept familiar to most attendees, although not everyone used the same words to describe the sense of anxiety around the idea of potential death of people close to them, people mentioned this being prompted by other bereavements.
Many participants shared personal stories around death & bereavement, the deaths of relations or friends and the impacts experienced/
Ther was some discussion of death, grief and funeral rituals, how these have changed over the years in this country & others, and the benefits or otherwise of ritual & tradition.
We also spoke about the groups experiences of funerals and the sense that in the UK this is often ‘taken over’ by ‘professionals & agencies’.
As we often find, there was laughter amongst the discussions
There was a relaxed atmosphere, the attendees expressed having enjoyed the session & some spoke of feeling surprised at not feeling as sad as they expected, or hadn’t found the conversations morbid of heavy.
Some participants expressed appreciation of the opportunity to speak openly about death, others said they enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere & shared humour.
The session ended with final thoughts and some attendees expressing feeling more comfortable & confident about hosting a Death Cafe.
I love facilitating these conversations, holding space & opening the door for people to feel saf in talking about death, without being told to shh, or not to be morbid!
Next Art Place Death Café
Date 30th January 2026
Time 12.15 – 13.15
Chelmsford Death Café https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100083357918093
Comments
For some of us, the greatest gift life offers is that someday, preferably sooner rather than later, we get to die — and not have to repeat the suffering. But when suicide is simply not an option, it basically means there’s little hope of receiving an early reprieve from our literal life sentence.
Also, I read [and any reader should correct me if I’m in error] that Sigmund Freud postulated: Regardless of one’s mental health and relative happiness or existential contentment, the ultimate goal of our brain/mind is death’s bliss because of the general stressful nature of our physical existence, i.e. anxiety or “stimuli”. It’s important to clarify, however, that it’s not brain death per se that is the aim but rather the kind of absolute peace that only brain death can offer in this hectic world.
Ergo, the following:
__
I awoke from another very bad dream, a reincarnation nightmare / where having blessedly died I’m being bullied towards rebirth into human form / despite my pleas I be allowed to rest in permanent peace. //
My bed wet from sweat, I futilely try to convince my own disordered brain / I want to live, the same traumatized dysthymic brain displacing me from the functional world. //
Within my nightmare a mob encircles me and insists that life’s a blessing, including mine. // I ask them for the blessed purpose of my continuance. I insist upon a practical purpose. //
Give me a real purpose, I cry out, and it’s not enough simply to live / nor that it’s a beautiful sunny day with colorful fragrant flowers! // I’m tormented hourly by my desire for emotional, material and creative gain / that ultimately matters naught, I explain. My own mind brutalizes me like it has / a sadistic mind of its own. I must have a progressive reason for this harsh endurance! //
Bewildered they warn that one day on my death bed I’ll regret my ingratitude / and that I’m about to lose my life. // I counter that I cannot mourn the loss of something I never really had / so I’m unlikely to dread parting from it. //
Frustrated they say that moments from death I’ll clamor and claw for life / like a bridge-jumper instinctively flailing his limbs as though to grasp at something / anything that may delay his imminent thrust into the eternal abyss. // How can I in good conscience morosely hate my life / while many who love theirs lose it so soon? they ask. //
Angry I reply that people bewail the ‘unfair’ untimely deaths of the young who’ve actually received early reprieve from their life sentence / while those people must remain behind corporeally confined / AND do their utmost to complete their entire life sentence—if not even more time, if permitted! //
The vexed mob then curse me with envy for rejecting what they’d kill for—continued life through unending rebirth. // “Then why don’t you just kill yourself?” they yell, to which I retort “I would if I could. //
My life sentence is made all the more oppressive by my inability to take my own life.” // “Then we’ll do it for you.” As their circle closes on me, I wake up. //
Could there be people who immensely suffer yet convince themselves they sincerely want to live when in / fact they don’t want to die, so greatly they fear Death’s unknown? //
No one should ever have to repeat and suffer again a single second of sorrow that passes. ... Nay, leave me be to engage the dying of my blight!
Posted by Frank Sterle Jr.