Your comfort zone is killing you

The denial of death is natural—but confronting it can set you free.

Death Over Coffee returns! ☕️⚰️

Join us Sunday, April 27 at 11 AM ET for our monthly salon—a space to gather in community with fellow mortals and reflect on life, death, and everything in between. Want to join us? Become a paid member to attend, and stay tuned for more details.

---

Western culture is often described as “death-denying.” And let’s be honest: we’ve earned the reputation.

Most of us do everything we can to avoid talking about death—our own, or anyone else's. We’re terrified of aging, we keep elders out of sight in nursing homes, we immediately whisk away the dead in hospitals to make room for the living. We’re never taught what to say to people who are grieving. And because most of us have no idea how dying actually works, we talk about death in euphemisms to sugarcoat what is, in reality, a non-negotiable outcome.

Our cultural denial of death is perhaps most evident in the Silicon Valley longevity obsession: optimizing every meal, injecting stem cells, even monitoring sleep erections, all in pursuit of stretching life as far as it can go. Tech titans chase immortality, freezing their bodies in hopes of being revived by future technology (you know, just in case death ends up being optional).

But in this obsession—and the denial that underlies it—we risk losing touch with what it means to truly live.

I don’t blame those tech billionaires for trying to live forever (what else are they gonna do with all their time and money? End poverty? Fix climate change? Increase access to clean water? If only…). And I don't blame the rest of us for fearing death, either.

Because here’s the thing: denial of death is natural. It’s not a failure of character or a lack of courage or spiritual maturity. It’s an evolutionary response; a survival strategy that has supported human survival and adaptation for thousands of years.

Denial is like training wheels for the psyche: it keeps us steady when the reality of death feels too destabilizing to face. In the beginning, it’s helpful—even necessary. But over time, what once protected us starts to limit us. If we never take the wheels off, we never learn how to ride—we never experience the full terrain of life, with all its bumps and beauty. Denial might keep us upright, but it also keeps us small. To really live, we have to risk wobbling. We have to get uncomfortable. We have to face what we’ve spent a lifetime avoiding: the truth that we’re going to die.

Getting past denial

How do we live our lives every day knowing that one day we, and everyone we love, will be dead and gone? Enter denial.

Ernest Becker, author of The Denial of Death, argues that humans are driven by two forces: our biological nature (which knows we will die) and our symbolic nature (which craves meaning and permanence). In other words, we all have a basic inner conflict between knowing we’re gonna die, and wanting to live a life that matters and that has some lasting significance. This contradiction creates what Becker called existential terror, or “existential anxiety.”

Denial is a big part of how we manage that anxiety. It’s a brilliant mechanism employed by our brains to protect us from what we’re not yet ready to confront. This psychological defense mechanism buys us time—shielding us from pain or fear—but when left unchecked, it quietly distorts our decisions, our relationships, and our ability to live with clarity and purpose.

Becker believed that most human civilizations have been built to defend us from the terror of death. Religion, nationalism, culture, etc, have all become what he called “immortality systems”—structures we cling to so we don’t have to face the truth of our impermanence. When we feel vulnerable, we reach for identities, institutions, or ideologies that promise to outlive us.

This denial plays out in all kinds of ways—some subtle, some systemic, but at the most basic level, it’s a survival tactic. Just as we flinch when something flies at our face, our minds flinch at the idea of death. We try to transcend death by participating in something that feels lasting: chasing a promotion that might one day etch our name on a door, getting married, and having children that will literally carry on our bloodline.

But if we never stop to ask why we chase what we chase, we risk living out someone else’s idea of a meaningful life. And we never get to the root cause of our actions, which is ultimately, as Becker suggests, a fear of death we haven’t acknowledged.

That unprocessed fear doesn’t just shape our aspirations—it shows up in how we handle loss, aging, and dying itself. Denial also shows up in grief, cushioning us from loss with a stunned, disbelieving fog: “This can’t be happening.” And in medicine, it appears in our obsession with defeating death—as in dying is a failure instead of a natural part of life. Tragically, this mindset often leads to choices that decrease the quality of life instead of increasing it. Atul Gawande, author of Being Mortal, puts it bluntly: "Our reluctance to honestly examine the experience of aging and dying has increased the harm we inflict on people and denied them the basic comforts they most need.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Becker, along with countless others—Buddhists, Stoics, mystics, and seekers across time—believed that it is only by confronting our mortality can we truly live.

It’s not that we should obsess over death; it’s that we should be aware of it. That awareness allows us to act with urgency, savor the moments of our lives while we can, and live with depth and meaning.

When we remember that life is finite, we stop wasting time. We enjoy the warmth of the sun through the window. We forgive faster, and we let go of the bullshit. We face our fears and take risks to live our dreams.

Here’s the paradox: If you cling too tightly to the idea of living forever, you might not really live at all. But if you face the reality that life is finite, you’re suddenly free to choose to live with intention. You shift from "I have to do it all" to "I get to do what matters most."

This is what awaits us on the other side of denial. Only by embracing death can we live a meaningful life in the face of it.

Denial is just the beginning

This awakening doesn’t happen in our comfort zone.

Yes, denial is natural.

But growth doesn’t happen in denial.

Growth happens when we face what we’ve been running or hiding from. Denial, in many ways, is the starting line of growth. It shields us until we're ready to face what’s next. It’s a great protector in that way.

Growth lives in discomfort. It’s in the questions we’re afraid to ask, the conversations we avoid, and the feelings we push away. Real growth happens when we face the things we’d rather not look at. Thus, reflecting on death isn’t morbid or "giving up"—it’s the opposite. It’s a chance to become the kind of person you’ve always dreamed of being. It’s an invitation to live with more intention, to deepen your relationships, to finally take the leap on that thing you’ve been putting off.

But if we stay in denial, we get stuck. And that’s where the real harm begins—because staying stuck in denial costs us connection, meaning, and the chance to live a fully engaged life.

One of the most dangerous aspects of denial is when our illusions of immortality become so threatened that we don’t just turn inward, but we lash out. We demonize people who believe differently, we wage literal and cultural wars to defend our symbolic survival. Denial may start as protection, but if we stay in it too long, it distorts and harms our humanity.

This is why death contemplation matters. Not because it forces us to accept something terrifying, but because it opens us up to the life we’ve been too afraid to live.

So yes, track your sleep. Drink your green juice. Take care of your body. But don’t forget that the ultimate longevity hack isn’t living longer—it’s living deeper. Growth happens at the edge of our comfort zone, and nothing pushes us to the edge quite like death.

Lean in. It’s not as scary as you think. It’s where the best version of you is waiting.

How to confront your own denial of death

Comfort zones don’t just keep us safe—they keep us small.

In fact, I’ve come to see our comfort zone as a slow death.

I’ve seen it in hospice: people filled with regret for the things they didn’t say, the opportunities they didn’t take, the lives they didn’t live. Not once has someone told me they wished they’d played it safer. But I’ve heard plenty of people on their deathbed whisper sentiments of: shoulda, coulda, would’ve.

If you want to live a meaningful life, death contemplation is the ultimate discomfort practice. It’s not about being morbid. It’s about being honest.

Because when you face the truth—that you are going to die—something shifts.

You stop wasting time on what doesn’t matter.
You get clearer on who you are.
You stop living someone else’s script.

If you’re ready to move from denial into presence, here are five ways to begin:

1. Notice where you’re clinging
Are you obsessed with control? Hyper-focused on routines, eating habits, fitness, appearance, or "being productive"? Ask yourself if this is really about growth, or if it’s about trying to feel "in control" of the uncontrollable.

2. Have the hard conversations
If you died next week, what would you regret not saying? Doing? Being? What do you want the people you love (or the world) to know about you? Have that conversation now, not "someday."

3. Do the "deathbed test."
Imagine you’re on your deathbed. Who are you? What stories are you telling? What memories do you have? Now, think about who you are right now. Take note of the difference. Write down one thing you can do to close the gap.

4. Take the Death Archetypes test

Discover your unconscious attitudes towards death, receive a personalized death meditation and questions to contemplate. Journal about your experience. What aspects did and did not resonate? Share your results with someone else.

5. Try the “five whys” method

Choose something you’re striving for: a goal, habit, or desire, and ask yourself why you want it. Then, ask why again. And again. Keep going until you reach the root. This method is a deceptively simple way to uncover the deeper motivations behind what you chase.

Don’t wait for death to find you before you start living.
If this resonates, I invite you to remove the training wheels and reach out—you don’t have to navigate this alone. Book a free consultation if you’re ready to face the things you’ve been avoiding.

— Maura