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Death Club is happening in 26 days
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Welcome
Welcome to Death Club I'm Lou, and I'm really glad you're here. This is a place to talk about death, dying and grief openly, without the flinching, the euphemisms, or the quiet way the world usually asks us to carry it alone. My daughter Honey was born and died in the same moment. That changed everything about how I live, and it's why I'm here. I don't have a fixed map for this. I'm walking it too. What I've got is my own story and the things that have helped me, breath, ritual, honest conversation, and a room I went looking for and couldn't find, so I'm building it. These aren't answers. They're ways of listening. You don't need to be in deep grief, or any grief at all, to belong here. Maybe someone you love has died. Maybe you're watching it come. Maybe you're grieving something that doesn't have a name yet. Or maybe you're death curious, nothing to name, just drawn to look at death honestly instead of away. All of it belongs. And it's fine to be uncomfortable here. To not have the right words, or any words. To not know why you're drawn to this, only that you are. You don't need to arrive sure of your ideas or theories or what you believe. Unsure is welcome too. What im building inside: - Breathwork -the practice that taught me to stay with what's hard instead of turning from it. A tool for living, whether you're in grief or not. - Rituals - simple practices for tending the bonds that don't end when someone dies. - Reflections and prompts - honest invitations to sit with grief, love and change. - The monthly gathering - where we come together and talk openly about the things most rooms won't hold. - And each other - somewhere to be witnessed, and to witness someone else. Nothing here is too dark to say. You don't need to be over anything. You just need to be willing to be with it. Come exactly as you are. If you're new, introduce yourself below - your name, and one true thing about where you are right now. No need to explain or tidy it. However you arrive is right
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DEATH CLUB LIVE
DEATH CLUB LIVE 🤍 this is the heart of it. our live gathering (death-café-style) where we actually sit together and talk about death, grief and the people we carry. out loud, face to face, no flinching. first rule of DEATH CLUB: we talk about death. this is where we do it. → tap the calendar and hit add to my calendar so you don’t miss the next one → come as you are. you don’t have to speak, you can just sit with us → bring whoever you’re carrying no right way to grieve in here. see you there.
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How we are here
How we are here A few things that keep this a place people can be honest in. Not rules so much as how we hold the room. What's said here stays here. Trust is what makes it a real circle. We witness, we don't fix. Nobody here is a problem to be solved. Being seen is enough. Arrive as you are. There's no right way to grieve, or to be here. Silence, tears and laughter all belong. Take what's yours. Stay curious, take what resonates, leave what doesn't. Every way of seeing has a place. Go gently, with yourself and each other. Kindness first, and your own boundaries honoured. Side by side. No gurus, no experts. I'm a few steps along the same path, not above it. We learn from each other. Nothing is too dark to name. That's the whole point of the room. Whatever it is, you can say it here. We are in this together
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The thread from the funeral director
https://www.threads.com/@shady_et/post/DbPNZusiMBF?xmt=AQG0ZNC1CgEHdx0QC7MhTmGpA5z_a3QMSghXwTOoK9AiiXLH4NnwNcTXC08yO6FLb0vRsbO9&slof=1
When Death Comes by Mary Oliver
When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death comes like the measle-pox when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness? And therefore I look upon everything as a brotherhood and a sisterhood, and I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility, and I think of each life as a flower, as common as a field daisy, and as singular, and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, tending, as all music does, toward silence, and each body a lion of courage, and something precious to the earth. When it's over, I want to say all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it's over, I don't want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
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Talking openly about death, dying and grief, whether you're grieving, curious, or somewhere between. Come as you are.
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