Michelle: A recent Gallup poll found that 70 percent of Americans with full-time jobs are disengaged. That’s not just bored—that’s actively spreading discontent around the office. Mark: Whoa, seventy percent? That’s a staggering number. It makes you wonder, what if the real problem isn't the job, but our cultural obsession with never, ever quitting? We're taught that "winners never quit." Michelle: That's the central question in Tess Vigeland's book, Leap: Leaving a Job with No Plan B. What's fascinating is that Vigeland wrote this right after she herself made a very public leap, quitting her dream job as the host of NPR's Marketplace Money with absolutely nothing lined up. It’s a book born from her own 'free fall'. Mark: So this isn't just theory; she lived it. And the book got a really mixed reception, right? I remember hearing that some people found it incredibly inspiring, while others felt it came from a place of privilege. Michelle: Exactly. And we're going to get into all of that. It forces us to confront some uncomfortable truths, starting with the raw psychology of the leap itself. It’s not as simple as just handing in your notice.

Mark: I can imagine. So what does it actually feel like to leap? Is it just pure, liberating joy? Michelle: It starts that way. Vigeland describes this initial euphoria, this incredible high. But the book is full of stories, including her own, where that feeling lasts right up until about 9 a.m. on the first Monday you don't have a job to go to. That’s when the "Oh Sh!t" moment hits. Mark: The deafening silence of an empty calendar. I know that feeling from finishing a big project. Suddenly, the structure is gone. Michelle: Precisely. And Vigeland argues that our bodies often signal this need for change long before our minds are ready to accept it. She brings up a fascinating psychological experiment called the Iowa Gambling Task. Participants draw from four decks of cards. Two are "good" decks with small, steady rewards. Two are "bad" decks with huge rewards but even bigger, unpredictable penalties. Mark: Let me guess, everyone goes for the big rewards at first. Michelle: Of course. But here's the amazing part. After about ten flips from a bad deck, people's palms would start to sweat when they reached for it. Their bodies knew it was a losing game. But it took them, on average, another forty to fifty flips before their conscious minds figured it out and they started avoiding those decks. Mark: Wow, so it’s a biological warning system we're actively ignoring. Our gut is screaming "this is a bad deck!" for months, maybe years, while our brain keeps saying, "but the payout could be huge!" Michelle: Exactly. Vigeland felt that in her own career. She was successful, loved, but she describes feeling physically ill, nauseous, and dizzy in the days leading up to her resignation. Her body knew. The real challenge, though, came after she quit. It wasn't just about finding a new job; it was about losing her identity. Mark: That’s the killer question, isn't it? When you're at a party and someone asks, "What do you do?" and your answer used to be "I'm the host of a national radio show," what do you say when that's gone? "I'm... thinking"? Michelle: It's a profound identity crisis. One person in the book, Carl Seidman, a consultant who left a Big Four accounting firm, described it perfectly. He traveled South America for three months feeling on top of the world. But when he got back, he said, "Holy sh*t, what do I do now? It is really hard to create my own life!" You're not just leaving a job; you're leaving a pre-made identity. Mark: And that must be where your support system comes in. But Vigeland argues that most support is actually useless, right? She has a name for it.

Michelle: She does. She calls it "Happy Talk." It's all the well-meaning but ultimately unhelpful encouragement from friends and family. The "You're so brave!" and "You'll land on your feet, I just know it!" Mark: Oh, I know that talk. It’s meant to be supportive, but it completely shuts down any real conversation about your fears. You can't exactly respond with, "Actually, I'm terrified I just ruined my life." Michelle: You can't. It creates this pressure to perform success, even when you're floundering. Vigeland found that the most valuable support came from a group of other women who had also leaped. They called themselves the "North Stars." They met every two weeks, not to cheerlead, but to share the raw, honest, and often miserable realities of their job hunts and identity crises. Mark: Misery loves company, but in a productive way. They weren't just complaining; they were validating each other's experiences. They were all looking for their own 'North Star,' their own direction. Michelle: And that’s the core of it. To find that new direction, you have to redefine what success even means. One of the North Stars, Wendy Harris, said it best: "Success has to be being happy. It can’t just be money. It can’t just be that people think you’re smart. It has to be that you get some satisfaction out of what you do." Mark: But isn't it human to want that validation? How do you actually stop caring what people think, especially your family? I mean, telling your parents you're quitting a high-paying job to 'find yourself' sounds like a scene from a bad movie. Michelle: It's incredibly difficult. The book has a powerful story about a woman named Candysse Miller, who left a 30-year career as an executive. Her elderly father, who valued stability above all, was mortified. He couldn't understand it. Mark: I can just picture that conversation. The sheer panic in his eyes. Michelle: Exactly. But Candysse didn't just hope he'd come around. She sat him down and gave him the game plan. She said, "Here are the people I'm working with in my new ventures. Here's how much I have in savings. I can support myself for two years if I have to." She addressed his fears directly and confidently. And over time, he became her biggest advocate. Mark: So it's not about ignoring their fears, it's about proving you've thought through them. You have to have a better plan for your life than the one they have for you. Michelle: And that brings us to the biggest fear of all, the one that stops most people cold: money and family. The practical stuff.

Mark: Right. This is where the rubber meets the road. It’s one thing to talk about redefining success, but it's another thing entirely when you have a mortgage and kids who need braces. Michelle: Vigeland tackles this head-on. She talks about the importance of having what she calls a "Freedom Fund," or what others more bluntly call an "F-You Fund." It's that cushion of savings that gives you the power to walk away. But the most powerful stories in the book are from people who leaped with huge responsibilities. Mark: I'm listening. I need to hear this. Michelle: There's a man named Aaron McHugh. For twelve years, his life revolved around caring for his severely disabled daughter, Hadley. He stayed in a stable but unfulfilling job for the health insurance. After Hadley passed away, the grief was immense, but it also created a shift. He realized his priorities had been fundamentally changed by that experience. Mark: That’s a perspective you can't get any other way. Michelle: He decided to quit, with a wife and another child to support. He had built up that "liberation account," and he took the leap. He said his coworkers were baffled. They couldn't understand why someone would jump without a net. But he had redefined what mattered. He said, "I would love a new car with leather seats, but not as much as the freedom to say I’m not coming to work tomorrow." Mark: That's a powerful line. But the book isn't all peaches and cream, is it? It also includes stories where the leap goes horribly wrong. Michelle: It does, and that's what makes it honest. There's a cautionary tale about a man named David Sobel. He was a 42-year-old temp worker who dreamed of being a writer. He quit his soul-crushing office job to pursue his dream. Mark: And the net did not appear. Michelle: The net did not appear. He couldn't find writing work, he couldn't even get a temp job at Starbucks. He burned through his 401(k), fell into a deep depression, and had to rely on his parents. He ended up writing a piece for a major online magazine titled, "I Never Should Have Followed My Dreams." Mark: Okay, this is the core tension of the book. Is it 'leap and the net will appear,' or is that just dangerous advice for anyone who doesn't have Candysse's savings or Vigeland's connections? Sobel's story sounds like an absolute nightmare. Michelle: It is. And it raises the question of whether a "Plan B" is the smarter way to go. The book features Russ Kendall, a photojournalist who saw his industry collapsing. While still employed, he started a side business making pizzas for the local farmers' market. When he eventually got laid off, his Plan B became his Plan A. He was already established. Mark: That feels much more grounded. You're not leaping into a void; you're stepping onto a bridge you've already started building. Michelle: It's a less romantic but perhaps more practical approach. The book doesn't give you one answer. It presents the spectrum of possibilities, from glorious success to crushing failure.

Mark: So after all these stories, from the euphoric to the tragic, what's the real takeaway? Is the book for or against leaping? Michelle: I think the book's ultimate message is that it’s not a simple for-or-against question. It's not an instruction manual. It's an inoculation against fear and loneliness. Vigeland's point is that the 'safe' path is often an illusion. Industries change, layoffs happen. The real skill isn't about having a perfect plan; it's about becoming comfortable with uncertainty and redefining success on your own terms. Mark: So it’s less about the leap itself and more about what the leap forces you to become. Michelle: Exactly. It’s about learning to trust that you can build the net as you fall. The book ends with a quote from Lao Tzu: "you—and I— will have to truly let go of who we are in order to become what we might be." The leap is just the mechanism for that letting go. Mark: It makes you wonder, what ladder are you climbing, and is it leaning against the right wall? That’s a question we could all probably ask ourselves more often. Michelle: A very important question. We'd love to hear your stories about this. Have you ever taken a leap, or are you thinking about it? Find us on our socials and share your thoughts. Michelle: This is Aibrary, signing off.