“ULTIMATE” SEPARATION

“Shadow of Darkness”

During my conversation with Tina, the subject arose unexpectedly—or perhaps not entirely so. The concern of losing her parents has lingered in her mind for a while. Both of her parents are in their late 90s, and she is preparing herself for their eventual passing. Every time she visits their residence in Las Vegas, the experience becomes increasingly difficult, especially when it is time to say goodbye. In her mind, the thought arises that this might be the last time she sees them alive, stirring intense emotions within her.

As Tina and I made our way home, this unforeseen topic—one that seldom comes up in our conversations—appeared in all its “glory”: the pervasive fear of death that we, as humans, universally share. The 5-hour drive symbolically represented a journey into existential reflection on the subject of mortality and the emotion of fear it evokes within each of us. Death, the ultimate separation, makes us anxious because we know that life doesn't last forever. For Tina, this apprehension is especially vivid when she thinks about losing her parents. It brings up a spectrum of feelings, from worry to sadness and grief.

This “ultimate” separation is an anxiety-producing event, where uncertainty about the certainty of death looms large, often casting a shadow of darkness on the life we are living right now. This “shadow of darkness” pulls us away from the joy of life as it is and creates a negative image of reality that is not in line with our actual experiences. We can become preoccupied with the fear of loss, which prevents us from fully enjoying the time we have with our loved ones.

Contemplating Non-Existence

As I navigate the terrain of my thoughts, fear appears. The intrusive image of my mortality casts a shadow over my existence. The ultimate separation from all that I hold dear awakens apprehension. I helplessly observe how anxiety comfortably settles within the spacious house of my mind. I invoke the power of meditation to quiet the stormy sea within me. When the peaceful water surface is restored in the moments of contemplation, I ponder my own non-existence—when I will no longer experience the breath of fresh air, the taste of joy, the embrace of love, the smell of flowers, the sight of sunset, and the absence of everything that defines my life. The present might be bathed in its vibrancy, but the anticipation of impending darkness overshadows even the brightest moments. This existential angst arises from the knowledge that, one day, life as I know it will come to an end. The realization that I will eventually cease to exist can be a heavy burden to carry. Just as many times before, Sigmund Freud has something to say about this topic too. According to him, the contemplation of one’s death is unimaginable. Despite intellectual awareness of the concept, at a deeper level, we resist accepting it (1).

Denial 

I agree with Freud that for many of us, this “unbearable heaviness of being” is too much to endure and to face mortality with wide-open eyes.  Instead, we try to alleviate the “fear of nothingness” by using common defense mechanisms. For some of us, one of these “inner workings of the mind,” the denial (partial or complete) becomes fully operational, manifested as a belief that death does not exist. Those who employ this strategy may convince themselves that death is not a reality or that it will not happen to them.

During my teenage years, my denial about death was present but disguised. I exhibited a counterphobic attitude when faced with situations that triggered my fears. One such instance occurred during my summer vacation spent on the shores of the Sava River at Slavonski Brod, Croatia, where I frequented the city beach Poloj. The stories of drownings that occurred due to strong currents and riptides made me realize the potential danger of swimming in the river. However, instead of avoiding this activity, I decided to confront my fear of drowning by swimming across the Sava River alone.

I chose to keep my risky business a secret, and after making my way to a secluded area away from the other beachgoers, I quickly jumped in without thinking and started swimming without stopping. On the other side, as I sat on the bank of the river, watching the distant figures and barely hearing the noise of the crowded beach, a sense of unease began to well up inside me. My "hothead" cooled by the water realized the danger of my action, but it did not prevent me from swimming again.

Thankfully, I made it back to the beach, completely exhausted but fully aware of the stupidity of my act of defiance against the fear of death. Looking back, I realize that my counterphobic attitude was a way of dealing with the anxiety I experienced when witnessing the tragedy of drowning.

From Screen to Reality

I remember another event that took place during my pre-teen years. It was about something completely different, which proved to be just as influential as the previous event I recounted. This recollection takes me back to the time after I watched a Western movie called "The Hanging Tree," featuring Gary Cooper as the main character. In the movie, the protagonist is taken to a hanging tree while on the horse, and a noose is placed around his neck.

As an impressionable boy watching the movie, I remember feeling a sense of dread. I was completely immersed in the scene. I didn’t need virtual reality goggles to transport me onto that horse. The noose securely encircled my neck, its tightness grazing my skin, leaving me in a state of shock and suspension. I was powerless to act, frozen in that particular moment in time. As it was, I couldn't resist imagining myself in the position of the person being hanged. This experience lodged itself in my inner virtual space, creating a state that was difficult to shake off. The unsettling image continued to dominate my thoughts.

So what did I do this time? I decided to hang myself from a tree located next to my house. My memories of the events leading up to my attempted hanging are hazy, but I recall my brother and mother being present to rescue me from the destructive path my mind had taken. It is difficult to understand the workings of my mind at that time. I assume that the trauma I experienced while watching the scene of hanging seemed to coil within my mind like a snake, giving rise to my irrational reactions. It seems I needed to purge its destructive existence or control it somehow. The usual survival instinct took a backseat and a senseless method of dealing with the overwhelming presence of this foreign entity in my mind took a front seat.  

Triggers

Death anxiety can be triggered by various events and circumstances. The most common triggers are those that remind us of the finality of life, or events that make us acutely aware of the passage of time.

In this regard, the turning point in my life occurred following my 60th birthday. This occasion created a sense of urgency within me, prompting the recognition that I must consciously use my remaining time on this planet judiciously, ensuring that every moment holds significance. Although my external circumstances appeared largely unchanged, an unmistakable internal shift took place that I could not ignore.

For my daughter Simone, another birthday—this time, celebrating her mother's 70th—has stirred feelings of anxiety and sadness. This important milestone compelled her to face the undeniable reality of life's transience. With each passing year, Simone has become increasingly aware of the mortality of her parents.

In an email, she confided that her upbringing shielded her from exposure to death, yet paradoxically, at the same time, she was filled with a fear of it. The impact of witnessing the deaths of numerous individuals from her school within a short timeframe left a lasting impression.

Over time, Simone has become more at peace in this regard. This is because she now embraces a natural order of things. This newfound confidence guides Simone toward the experiences and successes that will happen in her life, rather than being preoccupied with death and dying. She remembers her father's advice to not live in fear and has chosen to keep that counsel in mind.

Existential psychotherapy

There isn't a one-size-fits-all solution for everyone dealing with death anxiety. In cases where anxiety significantly interferes with one's ability to lead a fulfilling life, seeking professional help becomes crucial. Therapy offers a secure environment to explore fears, thoughts, and emotions surrounding death. In particular, existential psychotherapy because it focuses on exploring the concepts of mortality and the purpose of life.

According to Irvin Yalom, a leading figure in this field, resolving the fear of death involves confronting it instead of avoiding it (2). Effective treatment depends on the exposure principle, emphasizing the active and intentional addressing of avoidance behavior. Hence, Yalom helps his patients to express their specific fears and anxieties about death, such as the loss of self or others, loss of control, fear of the unknown, and the pain and suffering associated with dying. He believes that facing death directly and consciously is essential for overcoming death anxiety (3).

This exposure therapy can be challenging. In the beginning, it may escalate anxiety leading even to panic attacks. Utilizing relaxation techniques, practicing deep breathing, and visualizing a "safe space" enables individuals to persist and “trust the process.”

Death Cafes

Something entirely different, something steering clear of clinics, therapist offices, health insurance, or the formality of diagnosis, is a unique form of peer support - the world of death cafes. When I first heard about them, my immediate association was with Socrates cafes, a discussion forum rooted in the Socratic Method. There, facilitators use questioning to stimulate critical thinking, promote self-reflection, and explore multiple viewpoints through engaging in dialogues.

As I learned more about death cafes, I found that my intuition had some basis. Both death cafes and Socrates cafes encourage open discussions, providing a safe place for people to share their thoughts and experiences. While Socrates cafes cover a broader range of philosophical topics, death cafes have a narrow focus on conversations about death and dying.

Participating in death cafes allows individuals with fears about mortality to connect, express themselves, and find validation and support. Originating in the United Kingdom in 2011, these gatherings are held in various locations, including cafes, community centers, private homes, and even online platforms (4).

Although I never attended a death cafe meeting myself, I gained insight into the experience through an article I recently read in Psychotherapy Networker – a magazine for professional psychotherapists. The author, also a psychotherapist, adopted an investigative reporting approach, exploring the topic by interviewing numerous facilitators and founders of death cafe meet-ups. Despite initial reservations, the author ultimately decided to attend one of the meetings. He described his experience with these words:

“I went to a death cafe looking for answers that, if I’m being honest, I still don’t have. But I can live with what I did get: a little bit of peace. Death still terrifies me. But it’s nice to know at least I’m not alone. That, in itself, is deeply therapeutic. It’s a truth I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life” (5).

The unique benefit of death cafe get-togethers lies in their ability to encourage self-reflection and a deeper understanding of the collective human experience with death. By nurturing a sense of community and solidarity, participants feel more connected to others through the shared exploration of a topic often considered taboo in conventional settings.

Belief in Afterlife

I will only briefly touch upon the concept of an afterlife in this text because I have dedicated an extensive chapter with various texts to explore the subject of the afterlife in great detail in my upcoming book. The notion that death is not the ultimate end but a transition to another state of existence provides reassurance by negating the idea of nothingness after death. This belief can alleviate fear and anxiety by providing a sense of continuity to one's existence. Many people are relieved to know that their essence, their consciousness, or soul, continues to exist beyond death.

Additionally, the idea of being reunited with loved ones who have died is a source of great comfort for many. The prospect of a reunion in the afterlife can help ease the pain of grief and provide consolation during the mourning process.

Recently, several published studies supported the idea that afterlife beliefs or experiences, such as NDE, mystical experiences, after-death communication, etc., significantly alleviated the fear of death and death anxiety (6) (7).

Legacy

On a personal note, I have discovered that engaging in creative activities such as writing allows me to introspect, go deep into my psyche, and experience a sense of meaningful productivity. It serves as my avenue of connecting with readers of my texts or books. The satisfaction I gain from inspiring others in this way brings a sense of reward and, in a small way, a feeling of being immortalized.

1. Civilization and Its Discontents, by Sigmund Freud, Penguin, 2002

2. Existential Psychotherapy, by Irvin D. Yalom, Basic Books, 1980

3. Staring at the Sun: Overcoming the Terror of Death, by Irvin D. Yalom, Jossey-Bass, 2009         

4.  https://deathcafe.com/     

5. Let’s Talk About Death—and Pass The Cookies, by Chris Lyford, Psychotherapy Networker, November/December, pp.11-14, 2023

6. Do Afterlife Beliefs Affect Psychological Adjustment to Late-Life Spousal Loss? by Deborah Carr and Shane Sharp, J Gerontol B Psychol Sci Soc Sci., 69: 103–112, 2014

7. Religious factors affecting death anxiety in older adults practicing Hinduism, Nishtha Lamba et al., Death Studies, 46:1973-1981, 2022