Astrid Kofler

Conversation about dying and death

Starting price: €500

I invite you (or I invite you formally, or I warmly invite all of you) to talk with me about dying. In the past, I sometimes thought I would like to be famous in order to make a difference. Today, I am convinced that we human beings—no matter how small we are—can make a difference, can change something, even if it is only a few words exchanged mindfully and attentively. Conversations, smiling at each other, looking into each other’s eyes, are healing and essential. That is why I love meeting people in a beautiful setting, cooking for them at my home, serving teas that I collect myself starting in spring. I spend a lot of time in nature. It teaches us about constant dying and new beginnings, as it sheds its cloak in autumn to withdraw and then awaken anew with the warming sun.

Dying has always fascinated me, and at the moment, I am not afraid of it. Twice, I have already been seriously injured. How it will be when the time comes, I cannot say. Perhaps a little fear wouldn’t be bad—if fear does not paralyze but is a sign of respect.

I would like to donate the money from the auction, from the winning bidder, to a cause. Somewhere where death is unfortunately more common than here, where it comes from outside—because of civil war, floods, or drought destroying crops, and people die of hunger, where there is war.

Of course, I also think of a sanctuary, an animal shelter, or the Children’s Heart Association. There are always farmers’ wives on the edge of the abyss when the farmer got caught under the tractor. But I am convinced and full of hope that here—in our country—we can raise money and support people who urgently need it.

I think of Sudan, Burkina Faso, Congo, Gaza, Ukraine, Ethiopia, Mali, Myanmar, and also Calcutta, where I visited Mother Teresa’s hospice last year.

Perhaps in conversation, we will find something else that excites us—something we can maybe do together so children can survive.

But first, I would like to talk about dying and also gladly read from the book. And I would be happy to do that at my home, where my desk is in the living room and books and papers usually lie on the large dining table, which is only cleared for invitations and special occasions.

I am convinced that life gains meaning through death. Of course, death is not the meaning. We must give meaning to our own lives. Through engagement with finiteness, life becomes more conscious.

I look forward to the conversation.

Astrid Kofler