Somebody Had to Go First

I was recently talking with a woman who shares my interest in death and dying and telling her about my Death Wishes course. As I passionately described everything I had taught, experienced, and learned, she listened eagerly.

When I finally stopped to take a breath, she said, “I am totally interested in the course. It sounds amazing! But I think I’ll wait until the third time you offer it. That way, most of the bugs will be worked out and you’ll really have the flow of it down.”

Hmm.

She’s not wrong.

Who really wants to be the first to sign up for a course that might fall on its face? I mean, I certainly “hoped” it won't fall on its face, but hope is not generally considered a solid business plan.

I get it. Being first can feel a little risky.

And then I thought about a recent flight to Texas with my husband.

We boarded the plane, got comfortable in our seats, and then learned there was a glitch in the preflight checklist.

We had to deplane.

Consequently, our flight was delayed.

Eight hours.

EIGHT.

After unsuccessfully trying to book another flight, we finally re-boarded eight hours later. By then, our completely full—and overbooked—plane had dwindled down to about one-third full.

As I settled back into my seat, I started wondering: *How do they really know everything is okay?*

It’s not like they take the plane out for a quick test drive.

Do I really want to be among the first people flying on a plane that has just been repaired? Wouldn’t it be nice if someone else took the test drive first?

Like maybe, I don't know...the mechanics?

But somebody has to be the first.

So I told myself to trust the process. Trust the mechanics. Trust the airline. Trust the pilot.

And just do it.

The fact that I am writing this proves the plane did not, in fact, fall on its face.

And then I started thinking about what my friend had said and my first Death Wishes class.

Will I make changes before I offer it again?

Absolutely.

Will the course grow and evolve?

That’s my vision.

Will I discover things I could have done differently?

One hundred percent.

But that doesn't mean the first class was somehow a rough draft that everyone had to survive.

A course isn't like a machine where you work out all the bugs and *then*, finally, it is ready for human consumption.

People come to courses looking for different things.

One person may want to finally organize their important paperwork. Another may want to explore their wishes for the end of life. Someone else may simply want a safe place to talk about death with people who don't suddenly remember they have to arrange their sock drawer when the subject comes up.

Each person arrives with their own questions, experiences, fears, hopes, and needs.

And each person leaves with something that is uniquely theirs.

I believe the people who attended my first Death Wishes course trusted me—not because I had already taught the course multiple times, but because they knew me through my other work, my death education, or ways I had helped them personally.

They trusted me enough to be first.

And that trust matters.

Yes, I will continue to improve the course. I will change things. Add things. Rearrange things. Probably have a few more “Why didn't I think of that?” moments.

But I don't believe that means the first group received anything less.

In fact, their evaluations demonstrated that they actually received more than they expected.

They came with their own hopes for what they might gain, but they also found connection, conversation, support, laughter, and the realization that they were not alone in thinking about these things.

I came to teach.

They came to learn.

And somehow, we all did both.

So yes, future Death Wishes classes may have a smoother flow. There may be fewer “bugs.” I may even eventually know what page we’re on because I decided to number the pages this time.

But I don't believe the first group got the inferior version.

I think they got the version they were meant to have.

Because sometimes being first means taking a chance on something new.

Sometimes it means helping shape what comes next.

And sometimes, you just have to trust the plane, buckle your seatbelt, and take off.

The Fall Death Wishes course begins Thursday, October 1st and runs through November 5th, every Thursday evening from 6:00 pm through 8:30 pm. Located in Madbury, NH. Registration is now open.

“EARLYBIRD” discount 25% off until October 17th. Payment options available.

For more information, go to the “Death Wishes” page on this website.