Death Work Doesn't Need More Experts.

There is a strange pressure in death work to become someone who always knows - Imposter Phenomenon is like a swarm of gnats that is always bugging this movement.

We expect ourselves to start our journey as death workers as if we know everything about the job/path/calling. Then, to make matters worse, social media rewards know-it-alls, so new death workers get lost in comparison games and never step up.

Then marketing rewards certainty and half-truths and we got ourselves a big ole helping of, “I’ll never be good enough” or “I’m terrified to cause harm” - which translates to “I’m afraid to be wrong” a lot of the time.

We are encouraged to build brands around expertise, confidence, and authority because that’s how EMPIRE likes it. Yet I believe that certainty is often a poor substitute for presence.

Death has a way of reminding us that we are standing in a landscape of mystery. Every person dies differently. Every family grieves differently. Every body tells its own story. There is no finish line where we finally know enough. Why are we not normalizing UNCERTAINTY in this field?

For that reason, I have begun wondering if one of the healthiest cultural shifts we could make is to normalize death workers saying, "I don't know." Normalize saying, "I've never encountered that before." Normalize saying, "I need to ask someone wiser." Normalize referring a family to another practitioner whose experience is better suited to what they need. Normalize changing our minds when we learn something new. Normalize remaining students. None of these statements diminish our work. In fact, I think they make us safer, kinder, and more trustworthy.

This is one of the reasons I have always understood death work as an apprenticeship rather than a destination. Apprenticeship is not simply the beginning of learning; it is an orientation to the entire vocation. It is a way of moving through the world with curiosity instead of performance, with reverence and humility instead of certainty. No one becomes an elder death worker in isolation. We become wiser by remaining teachable.

There is something beautifully fitting about this in a vocation devoted to death.

Dying-ness itself is one of the great dissolvers of ego. It does not care how many books we have written or read, how many certificates hang on our walls, or how Pinterest ready our websites appear. It will abruptly remind us that we belong to something much larger than ourselves. How strange it would be to spend our lives accompanying others toward one of the most profound experiences of egolessness while fiercely protecting the image of ourselves as experts who have mastered it all.

This is the spirit in which the Nine Keys School of Death Arts death work apprenticeship was created.

I have never wanted it to be a place that promises expertise. I wanted it to be a place where people learn how to apprentice themselves to death, to art, to community, and to a lifetime of listening.

My hope has never been that students leave believing they know everything. My hope is that they leave with deeper questions, stronger relationships, a lineage they can return to, and the confidence to say, "I don't know, but I know how to keep learning."

If that kind of apprenticeship has been calling to you, please see the Nine Keys Apprenticeship information here.

I can’t wait to meet you!

with care,

Narinder B