Have you heard about lifequakes? They’re basically big changes that lead to a life transition, the ‘stuff’ of life that feels like a life disrupter. Turning 50 prompted one in me:
In 2024 and 2025, while running my business, publishing a novel, writing two and a half more, being CEO of home, and taking care of my physical and mental health (ha!), I was also back at uni completing post-grad studies in Libraries and Information Management. No wonder I’m tired.
Back to lifequakes:
Life is in the Transitions by Bruce Feiler is the culmination of hundreds of interviews about how people approached life transitions. He uses the term lifequakes which he defines as massive change that leads to a life transition. Here’s me paraphrasing:
When there’s a gaggle of life disrupters and disturbances, good, bad and excruciating, all raining down on you at once, that’s a lifequake. It could be becoming a parent, losing a job, ending a relationship, finishing school, starting university, losing a loved one, a milestone birthday, a freaking pandemic. When more than one of these things happen at once, that’s a lifequake. When this happens, it can feel like all the different facets of life are suddenly unstable. Sometimes, we choose these, sometimes they’re thrust upon us, and sometimes it’s a combination of the two. There’s loss, and there can also be excitement, but with any uncertainty there’s shock and an element of fear.
But, but, but – on the other side of a lifequake is a blank page. Think about it – when it feels like things have burnt to the ground, you can feel more empowered to take a risk, try something new and take advantage of the opportunity to go in a new direction.
At subject selection time at school, my cherubs had the subsequent knickers-in-a-knot feelings about what to choose? I said to them to the point of killmenow that they didn’t need to know what they wanted to do for their entire life. They just needed to decide what to do first.
Gone are the days of linear life plans, thank goodness! This goes back to Feiler – his research shows that the average length of the transitions that are the aftershocks of lifequakes are five years, which means we spend half of our adult lives in uncertainty. Jeez, yet yay!
On the flipside of a lifequake is the chance to reimagine and rebuild our lives, shed beliefs and habits and build new ones. How exciting is that? Of course, all this talk about lifequakes had me thinking about my own:
Holly at eighteen years: I was finishing school, leaving home and moving to the city, starting university. The night before uni selections were due I swapped the Arts degree that I’d dreamed of for my entire school life for a nursing degree, promising myself that I’d make some money, get some life experience and then go back and find a way to make writing part of my professional life.
Holly at twenty four years: I bought a house and was a slave to mortgage repayments, working in my plan B career which I didn’t love, not in the slightest. I remembered my promise to myself and went back to uni to do a Masters in Communications, knowing that would give me highly employable skills and expertise.
Holly at thirty years: After six or so years working in comms on some phenomenal projects, I launched my business, which was a blend of outsourced communications and professional writing. On the day I graduated with my MA Comms I enrolled in another Masters, this time in Writing and Literature and this honestly felt like coming home.
Holly at forty years: I was a mum of two, one at school, the other starting kindergarten. I rebranded my business as Blue51 Communications, wanting more life by design than I’d been able to achieve working as a comms director for organisations.
Holly at fifty years: A life changing trip with my mama to France, Blue51 kicked over a decade, one cherub was in Year 12, the other Year 9 and my novel won a national prize. As I stood in the magnificent building housing France’s National Library, I was hit by a metaphorical lightning bolt: it was time to tear shit up a smidge. Hello, new lifequake!
And now I’m a qualified librarian working part-time in a beautiful school library putting books in kids’ (and teachers’) hands. It’s the perfect alignment of my strengths, my passions, my expertise, my experiential diversity, and, not insignificantly, my values.
This is a lifequake that I’m embracing with optimism, excitement and a tiny bit of buttclenching. All the good stuff!