Inside a Death Café: An Emotional Intelligence Perspective

This article touches on grief and loss. I am not a medical professional, and this is not intended as medical advice. This article reflects my personal experiences and perspective as an emotional intelligence trainer. If you're navigating grief and need support, please consider reaching out to a licensed mental health professional.

Introducing yourself and then immediately divulging your innermost thoughts and feelings about death to people sitting around you might not seem like the most intuitive way to break the ice with a new group of people.

When I saw that a Death Café was happening soon near me, curiosity welled up within me more than any other reaction: 

• How does informal conversation work at a Death Café?

• Would it be considered weird if I cried while there? (Weird if I don’t?)

• What’s the appropriate level of stranger-to-stranger sharing when it comes to intimate topics like grief and personal loss?

• How can a group of strangers come together and successfully dive into such a deep topic without it feeling awkward or forced?

Much of my time spent in emotional intelligence training focuses on teaching people the skills for handling difficult emotions with others at work.  Yesterday morning, though, I was looking at things from more of a personal lens: how does the way I’m processing my grief and past losses impact my ability to show up the way I’d like to with others in my life?

Death Cafés aren't therapy groups or formal grief support programs. They're simply spaces where people can come together to talk openly about death and dying without having an agenda. The concept originated in the UK and has since spread across the globe, showing up in community centers, libraries, and coffee shops. And fun fact, for my fellow Ohioans: the first Death Café in the United States was actually held right here in Columbus, Ohio (wondering if this implies anything dismal about Ohio...probably not, but discovering this fact amused me a little).

Upon walking into the room, the first thing I noticed was how the chairs were arranged in a small circle to encourage conversation of a more intimate nature. The second thing I noticed were 6 pairs of nonjudgmental, unfamiliar eyes looking directly at me. Immediately I could discern that I was the youngest person at this event, though knowing this fact didn’t inherently make me uncomfortable. Having lost both of my parents by the time I was 30 years old, I’ve grown accustomed to feeling like the odd one out in my own social circles, with none of my friends being able to relate to those kinds of losses at our age. Connecting with individuals outside my age range is something I’ve often gravitated towards as a result.

Though our group on Monday didn’t get to do the ‘Death Deck’ activity box – meant to spark group discussions around death and loss – I admit I was curious about the cards inside. Maybe next time, though.

As the meeting continued, we each shared our stories about death with each other, including what brought each of us there to the Death Café. Each person in the room was navigating their own relationship with loss, dealing with it at different stages and in different forms. As I sat in my chair and listened, I found myself thinking about my own experience of grief and loss through the lens of what I do in my work: helping people improve their EQ skills and be more self-aware. But what does it mean to be emotionally intelligent while navigating a loss? Where does grief fit inside the frameworks used to understand how we feel and how we connect with others?

These two questions have been at the forefront of my mind since attending yesterday’s Death Café, and they're what I want to explore here.

WHY GRIEF IS SO HARD TO TALK ABOUT

One thing we all agreed on during this meeting was that most of the people in our lives (even the ones who love us most) sometimes struggle to show up for us when grief comes knocking. Our friends may end up trying to change the subject when it gets brought up. Sometimes platitudes are offered, though usually well-meaning. In other instances, the people in our circle may simply disappear for a time - not out of cruelty, but out of their own discomfort with the topic. As you can imagine – though envisioning this isn’t too hard for those who’ve already felt the sting that death leaves in their life – the resulting isolation that builds can be overwhelming to deal with, even for those with optimal support and healthy emotional habits.

Grief doesn't just affect how we feel, though. It affects how we function, how we relate to others, and how we show up in every area of our lives. And yet it's also one of the experiences we're least equipped to navigate with emotional skill, both for ourselves and for the people around us.

WHAT WE'RE TAUGHT TO FEEL: HOW CULTURE SHAPES THE WAY WE GRIEVE

When my father died unexpectedly, I was in my mid-twenties, living by myself in Japan at the time. This news from overseas came to me at a moment where I was already living more isolated than I’d ever been before – both physically (quite literally, was living on an island away from my family and friends) and emotionally too, having only acquaintances around me, ones who had different cultural backgrounds, beliefs, and expectations about grief than I did.

A photo I took at Haruna Shrine, located a short drive away from where I lived. This particular area was located halfway up the mountain path and took about twenty minutes to reach by foot.

One act of kindness I cannot forget from this somber period of my life came from a neighbor of mine, Ayaka. Though we didn’t know each other very well, and she wasn’t too comfortable with English, she came by to pick me up as soon as she heard about my father’s sudden passing. She took me to a café that had a bench overlooking a beautiful lake out back, where she sat beside me for two full hours, hand on my shoulder, crying in silence along with me as I sat there trying to make sense of my sudden loss.

For those familiar with some of Japanese culture, expressing one’s emotions so candidly and effusively isn’t always seen as the most acceptable. Oftentimes - at least in the professional and social environments I was in at the time - displaying raw emotion so openly was seen as something close to shameful; an embarrassing thing to be dealt with privately, so as not to burden or encumber others around you.

Ayaka went against that cultural norm that day to show up for me - a foreigner she didn’t really know well - in a way that she knew I would understand. Sometimes words themselves aren’t needed. All that’s needed is some empathy, and the inclination to put the other person’s immediate needs before your own. In my book, Ayaka serves as a pristine example of what emotional intelligence truly looks like – superseding language, beliefs, and culture in my case.

How we're taught to express grief, who we're allowed to lean on (and whether we're given permission to fall apart at all) - these behaviors are shaped by the culture we grew up in and the environments we move through as adults. If you haven’t considered it before, I’d encourage you to reflect on this question for yourself: what did the culture or environment you were raised in teach you about how to handle grief? Are those things that you learned back then still serving you well today?

HOW GRIEF PLAYS INTO EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE FRAMEWORKS

In my work as an emotional intelligence trainer, I frequently draw on Daniel Goleman's EQ framework, which organizes emotional intelligence into four distinct quadrants. When analyzing grief through this lens, we see how it influences us:

Self-Awareness. Grief can disrupt your baseline in ways you don't always notice right away. You may find yourself avoiding certain people, struggling to concentrate, or snapping at small inconveniences. Practicing self-awareness in these moments can look like:

• Recognizing where you tend to hold tension or feel “heaviness” in your body as it begins to surface.

• Identifying what cues (places, routines, or people) might be inadvertently triggering the waterfall of grief for you in specific moments.

The key here is to practice nonjudgmental observation of what you’re feeling in these moments. No added shame, anger, or guilt belongs here (or anywhere, really). You wouldn’t shame a friend for feeling sad after suffering a loss, right? Why not then extend that same level of grace to yourself when it’s happening to you?

Self-Management. Once you have some awareness of how your grief is affecting you, the next question becomes how you work with it. (Notice how I didn’t say ignore it or minimize it). This process looks different for everyone. Some people need to move their body to help process complex feelings. Some need to invest their energy into creating something. Some may need to talk, while others prefer distraction. Knowing what genuinely helps you regulate - rather than what just numbs you – is the first step in this process.

Social Awareness. This has us trekking into empathy territory here, tuning into what someone else is going through after suffering a loss. My take on this one: if you hear that someone has experienced a loss (especially if you’re beyond the level of “acquaintance” in your relationship with them), acknowledge it. Don't keep postponing it until the moment feels right for you, because it never will be. Also, spoiler: it isn’t about you. Social awareness is about recognizing what others are feeling and considering what they might need. Death is obviously uncomfortable to talk about; it’s awkward by nature. Try not to compound someone’s grief by also making them feel like their pain is worth ignoring. Of course, this comes with a huge grain of salt, as some people prefer distraction over acknowledgment – which segues nicely into our last EQ quadrant.

Relationship Management. Showing up well for someone in grief means knowing them as a person: are they the kind of individual who likes to process things out loud, or do they need you to take them for a walk and not bring it up? Because both are valid. There’s no universal road map to grief. We all process it differently and in our own ways.

If we’re the one dealing with a loss, sometimes exercising good Relationship Management means telling others what we need ourselves in these moments. Holding others up to unspoken expectations they aren’t aware of is a great recipe for having resentment and anger start to creep into your relationships with others. Sometimes we must teach others how to show up for our needs, and saying what we need out loud gives them the opportunity to do just that.

CONTINUING THE CONVERSATION: BOOKS ON GRIEF AND LOSS

I shared a book recommendation with the group yesterday morning: What's Your Grief? by Eleanor Haley and Litsa Williams. It's one of the most practical, compassionate resources I've come across for understanding the many shapes loss can take. If you're navigating grief yourself in your life or trying to support someone who is, it may be a helpful read.

"It’s okay to live and laugh while also grieving. You can feel two seemingly conflicting things at once.” - Page 27, What's Your Grief?

A few other titles I’ve had recommended to me recently, but haven’t gotten to myself yet:

• Being Mortal by Atul Gawande

• The In-Between by Hadley Vlahos

• When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

• Smoke Gets in Your Eyes / From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death by Caitlin Doughty

Disclaimer: a few of these titles come at this topic from more of a humorous approach, which may not be everyone’s cup of tea. Being someone who sometimes leans into humor to help me rationalize and understand my own experiences in this fascinating and messy world, I appreciate the impact that occasional levity can have. I also recognize how austere of a topic death is, and understand that people internalize and process it differently.

If you’ve come across a book or resource that you’ve found particularly helpful related to this topic, drop it as a comment below. What you’ve found helpful in the past may prove beneficial for someone else in their journey down the road (big proponent of paying it forward here).

A NOTE FOR LEADERS AND MANAGERS

Loss is a universal human experience, which means you will likely need to deal with a related situation sooner or later at work. Knowing how to show up for someone on your team starts long before a loss occurs. My call to action for you: don't wait for a tragedy to unfold before taking real interest in the people around you. That isn't the moment to start figuring out who someone is; that's the moment to put into action what you already know about them as a person.

What do you know right now about the people on your team? If that question is hard for you to answer, that might be worth tackling. Make the effort to know your people while also respecting their boundaries. We're all human beings at work, and being able to acknowledge the weight of common human experiences goes a long way toward becoming a more emotionally intelligent leader.

Links:

• View other blog articles on Questing Insight

• Follow along the journey on Instagram (I'm still getting over my allergy to posting regularly on social media these days)

• Join my Substack for updates and future similar posts

• List of Emotional Intelligence books by Daniel Goleman