About Our Community
“When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.”
Mary Oliver - When Death Comes
We are setting out on a path of apprenticeship to grief.
Our curiosity is not about what happens after death, but rather:
What does it mean to live with death?
This is the question we are living and working with.
There is life with death.
There is grief. There is death—in this world.
Our fascination with death does not always lessen the fear we sometimes feel.
If there is such a thing as preparing for death, it begins by noticing how we turn away from it—and by softening into our resistance.
As we begin to dwell in this acceptance, as we steep in it, not like a book we finish and shelve, but as something that permeates our routines, our relationships, our words, our gestures, and the world itself—
life begins to speak.
We start to notice it.
To truly feel it.
Death is here—and it makes space for life.
Grief is here—and it opens the doors of the heart.
So what does it mean to honor life while we are still alive?
How do we make sure we didn’t just visit this world?
Like Pandora’s box, perhaps in the very place we avoid and fear the most lies a great treasure—
a vibrant wisdom waiting to be remembered,
a pulse of aliveness calling us back.
For us, the answer is yes.
That’s why we are here.
We invite you to this path—
to honor life,
to remember what is sacred,
to walk with it, together.
We approach grief and death as wise companions to life.
We are not here to solve, control, manage, overcome, or cope.
That is not our work.
Our inquiry is this:
How might we enter into relationship with these companions—with reverence?
How can we make space for them in our lives, with awareness and compassion?
What might they teach us?
Our invitation is to reweave our relationship with grief and death through reverence and sacredness—
to not turn away from sorrow,
to let our hearts open through compassion,
and to cross these thresholds of initiation—together.
Grief & Death Wisdom community is an independent organization. It was founded and is lovingly sustained by individuals who have been called to serve those who grieve. It is a collective offering. All work shared here is the gift of volunteers who walk alongside grief, holding space with compassion and reverence.
To learn more about the hearts behind this work, you can visit the pages below:
→ Filiz Telek
→ Berna Köker Poljak
→ Our Volunteers – The Hands and Hearts Behind the Work
In Loving Memory
We wish to honor the spirits of those who have inspired and emboldened us in the creation of this platform.
Beloved ones whose place in our lives is everlasting, whose support we feel each and every day—you have brought us together with one another and with this work.
You are still here, still with us.
Your songs are sung.
We remember you every day.

Deniz Kurt Duruöz
21st July 1981-1st November 2019
Deniz was a woman with the delicacy of a butterfly’s wing, eyes that sparkled with life, and a heart vast with love. She left us on November 1, 2019. In both her life and her passing, her love and generosity inspired many, and continue to do so. We remember and honor her with longing and deep gratitude.

Arife Bıyık
21st March 1974- 20th April 2021
Arife, Berna’s close friend, left us on April 20, 2021. She carried a graceful and trustworthy spirit. A steadfast friend and a good listener, she brought beauty into the world throughout her life and shared her gifts with generosity. Our gratitude and love for what she brought into our lives will always remain. We will never lose you.

Berk Bingöl
7th December 1998 – 29th February 2020
Berk left us on February 29, 2020, at just 21 years old. He was a young man striving to find himself, to understand life, who loved reading and learning, and who always remained humble. With his gentle and sensitive spirit, Berk could have made meaningful contributions to the world had he lived longer. We will always miss him deeply.