
The ritual of death is about celebrating life. One day we will all die; that’s the one thing to be sure about, so the fundamental question becomes, what do you do with your life before death? If we will someday (sooner than we think) be asked to give up everything that we are and know, what in the realm of being and doing do we value above all else that we’d wish to fill our last hours of existence with? This ritual invites the participants into a dream-like world with several symbolic landmarks. Fate decides how long they may stay and with whom on this journey, just like in everyday life, and it’s up to them to find meaning in these encounters. We are invited to do this in more intimate situations in sadomasochistic play, and so this ritual is a poignant preparation for that. We are constantly being invited to bring meaning into our everyday lives, and nothing brings meaning into better focus than death.
Preparations
Careful preparation of the space is vital in this ritual. First, I place mattresses in a spiral shape from the room’s entrance towards the centre. It serves two purposes; it acts as a guided path when the participants enter, filling the room with a sense of mystique because a geometrical structure is more comprehensible than the seemingly random chaos of everyday life. The world is filled with hidden patterns, but while the human brain is adept at recognising them, something strikes us as awe-inspiring when it is apparent and obvious, like the pyramids in their god-like grandeur.
At the spiral’s centre is the altar, and its beauty contrasts with the simplicity of the rest of the room. The altar should contain items that can be removed, for example, to be gifted or stolen, like the Eden apple, flowers or fabrics, and space for things to be added in sacrifice or letting go. The second landmark is the mirror with a chair in front of it. It’s a place to see oneself in loneliness or with others reflected in the symbolic landscape. Preferably the mirror should be full body sized with an ornate frame. The chair mustn’t be like a throne, which may introduce a sense of unwanted hierarchy in the room.
The third landmark is the writing station; as the ritual is a non-verbal space, the participants can write paper notes to themselves and others. I always try to find beautiful handmade paper and raw charcoal for drawing and writing. The care for materials encourages the participants to place extra effort into their communication, as their words will waste a valuable resource. Besides the three landmarks (altar, mirror, and paper), I put a few chairs and meditation pillows around the room to provide comfortable resting places. Finally, at the room’s entrance, I place two chairs for the guardian angels, which will help me ensure that people enter in silence and leave in peace, but more about this later.

Numbers play an important role in the ritual of death. Each participant must be assigned one and I’ll explain more later how they will be used. As entering the ritual space is a formal stage of its own, I hand out the numbers beforehand, either when people are waiting to enter or at a morning gathering. By the time people enter the ritual, they have their number with them. I’ve even tried to send them out ahead of time in sealed envelopes. It’s essential not to spoil what the numbers will be used for, so instead, I give a vague description like “Remember this number as if your life depended on it.” and “Make sure that you bring this to the ritual tonight.”. At the same time, I tell the participants that they will need to always carry around anything they bring to the ritual (clothes, water bottles, bags), so as to avoid unnecessary stuff.
The minimum number of participants is somewhere around twenty. When there are fewer than a hundred participants, I will have pre-prepared a few extra numbers, just to be on the safe side, in case extra people arrive at the last minute (in which case they receive their numbers before entering the ritual space). For example, if 45 numbers had already been distributed, I will prepare an extra, say, five numbers (ready to be distributed at the last moment if needed) and mark down 50 numbers on my personal list. When I know that there will be more than a hundred participants, I will have made two sets of numbers up to one hundred and distributed those sets. This is because I know that I cannot, for example, have enough time to read out 200 numbers in two hours. This way, sometimes it happens that two persons will have the same number and leave at the same time, and also sometimes a number is called which no one has. Each time I call out a number, I cross it off on my god-master list.

Entering is the transmutation from one world to another. I allow people to enter one by one and, as in meditation, follow the spiralling mattresses towards the altar in the middle. I instruct them to walk slowly with awareness of how their balance shifts from foot to foot. Ignore the people around you, I remind them. Once the first person reaches the altar in the middle, they sit down, and the next person sits beside them. This keeps going until the entire space is filled with people. Hopefully, all participants will fit sitting in a spiral formation, but if they don’t, I allow for the rest to spread out in the room.
This stage brings the symbolism of the spiral to life with human flesh. Life spiralling towards an end point. As the ritual is slow and wordless, the goal of this stage is to aid the participants to slow down, ground themselves, shut up and submit to the overall choreography. Anyone breaking the rules while filling up the spiral, such as whispering to their neighbour or trying to make contact while walking, should be told because it makes the group feel unsafe when someone signals that the rules don’t apply to them.
Once the room is filled and everyone sits silently, I explain the rules.

First Rule: Numbers will be called out randomly during the ritual. When your number is called, you must stand up and leave, say no goodbyes or last wishes and no finishing up. This is why you must carry your things around, as you can’t go and look for them when you are dead. Your ritual may only be five minutes if your number is the first or several hours if you are the last one alive.
Second Rule: No talking. The ritual is a wordless time and space. If you need to communicate, compose a note at the writing station, and deliver it gracefully. This rule may be broken for safety reasons, like expressing a boundary.
Third Rule: You can leave whenever you want to by pretending that the number read is your number. Suppose the ritual is too much or intense for you. If you are simply bored, I would encourage you to stay with your boredom, as it’s also part of life before death.
Fourth Rule: Interaction with others is initiated with the following choreography. Eye contact, hand contact, and body contact – in that order. Never touch anyone before meeting their eyes, and never touch anyone’s body before touching their hands.
Fifth Rule: Make eye contact and give the angels at the door a nod to show that you are okay when leaving the ritual. If you don’t, one of them will follow you out to check in with you.
Within the rules above, you may do anything you want with your last time before death. You may play, dance, meditate, cry or make love. You may meet new people, you may share a goodbye with your loved ones, or you may stay all alone. You decide how your life before death will be.

Once the rules are explained, I’ll play music and observe how life before death unfolds. I’ll divide available numbers with the total time of the ritual and simply pull the numbers one by one from the bowl, read them out using a microphone and cross them off the tracking list.
At this point, there is not much I can do to influence how the ritual unfolds. However, I can alternate the tempo of how I read the numbers, like going faster when little happens—or slowing down when there is a meaningful atmosphere in the room. I can hush people who speak and remind people to leave quickly without saying goodbye. And if the energy gets very intense, I’ll remind the participants about the choreography for making contact and that they can actually leave whenever they want by pretending that a number is theirs.
Sometimes I’ll prearrange some special happenings with musicians, dancers or performers to make an improvised appearance during the ritual. One of the most beautiful moments was when a friend brought her violin and played the theme song from Schindler’s List when only a handful were left alive. Once only one person or number remains, I’ll read that out and let them take their time to say goodbye to the space.
Integration
As there is no communal ending to the ritual, the angels at the door must provide the opportunity to ground when participants leave. I also recommend ensuring that other activities are available once a person dies, like going to the sauna, having a cup of tea, sitting in a meditation circle, or having a cuddle puddle. Just letting people die out on the streets is cruel. Sometimes I also organise a post-mortem the following day to allow the participants to share their experiences. And I also make myself available for feedback in the following days and weeks.

History
I heard about this approach to the subject of death at a festival called Xplore at the beginning of the 2000s. If I recall correctly, a university teacher was educating doctors on how to talk about death, and he created this experiment to run with his students. Unfortunately, this was only mentioned briefly over lunch with many people talking, so I don’t know the background exactly. But the idea stayed with me until I got the urge to develop it into my own ritual in 2022.
















