Mark: The average person will go through three to five 'lifequakes'—massive, life-altering disruptions. Each one lasts, on average, five years. Michelle: Wait, five years each? Mark: Five years. That means many of us will spend nearly half our adult lives in a state of transition. The question is: are we navigating it, or is it just happening to us? Michelle: Half our lives? That's... a lot. That feels both terrifying and, honestly, a little bit validating. Mark: It’s the central question in Bruce Feiler's bestselling book, Life Is in the Transitions. And what's fascinating is that Feiler didn't just write this as an observer. The project was born from his own series of lifequakes—a battle with cancer, his father's struggles with Parkinson's and depression—which led him to travel to all 50 states, collecting hundreds of life stories to find a new map for modern life. Michelle: Wow. So he really lived it. It wasn't just academic. And this whole idea that life is supposed to be a straight, predictable line is basically a myth we're all still buying into? Mark: It's a fairy tale gone awry. And Feiler argues it’s the primary source of our anxiety when things inevitably go off-script.

Michelle: I can see that. We're all handed this blueprint: school, career, marriage, house, retirement. When you deviate, you feel like a failure. You feel like you're the only one whose life is messy. Mark: Exactly. But Feiler's research shows the messy life is the normal life now. He calls it the "nonlinear life." And the stories he collected are just incredible proof. Take Christy Moore. She grew up in South Georgia, hated school, and got pregnant at seventeen. By the old script, her life was over. Ruined. Michelle: Okay, I know that story. Or I think I do. She drops out, struggles, and that's kind of it, right? A cautionary tale. Mark: That's what she thought, too. She and her boyfriend Roy got married, had three kids. He was working multiple fast-food jobs. She was delivering newspapers. They were drowning in debt. She said she felt her life was completely "out of order." But then, something shifted. She started taking her kids to the library and, while they were at story time, she started reading the classics for herself. Michelle: Oh, I like where this is going. Mark: She fell in love with books. It sparked something. She decided to go back to school. It was a long, hard road, but she eventually earned her bachelor's, then a master's, and finally, a PhD. Today, she counsels other nontraditional students. And she has this amazing quote. She says, "Although my life is completely out of order, if I had done it in the expected order, I wouldn’t have the husband I have, the children I have, or the life that I have, which I adore." Michelle: Wow. So the very thing that seemed like a derailment was actually the event that put her on the right track for her. That's a powerful reframe. But for every Christy Moore, aren't there people who get knocked down by life and just... stay down? What's the difference? Mark: That's the core of the book. Feiler makes a distinction. He says we all face constant "disruptors"—smaller events that knock us off balance. His data shows we experience one every 12 to 18 months. But about one in ten of those becomes a "lifequake." Michelle: A lifequake. I like that term. It’s more than a disruption. It’s tectonic. Mark: It is. It's a major event that leads to a massive re-evaluation of your life. And they can be voluntary, like quitting a job you hate, or involuntary, like getting a diagnosis or losing someone. The most powerful stories are often about reframing those involuntary ones. He tells the story of Davon Goodwin, a young man from Pittsburgh who loved botany. He lost his college scholarship, so he joined the army to pay for school. Michelle: A classic story of trying to do the right thing. Mark: Exactly. But in Afghanistan, his vehicle was hit by an IED. The blast was catastrophic. He was severely injured, battled addiction to painkillers, depression, suicidal thoughts. His old dream of being a botanist seemed impossible. His life was shattered. Michelle: That’s the kind of involuntary lifequake that’s almost impossible to see a way through. Mark: You'd think so. But years later, after a long and brutal recovery, he looked back and said something stunning. He said, "That bomb was not a bomb; that bomb was a blessing. It forced me to come up with a new dream." Today, he runs a farm that helps communities of color get access to fresh produce. He found his way back to plants, but on a path he never could have imagined. Michelle: A blessing. That's... an incredible perspective. It’s not about ignoring the trauma, but about what you build from the rubble. Okay, so lifequakes shatter our story. Reframing it is one thing, but what are we actually building the new story with? What are the materials?

Mark: That is the perfect question, and it leads right to the heart of Feiler's framework. He says that when our life story is in pieces, we rebuild it using three core ingredients. He calls them the "ABCs of Meaning." Michelle: Okay, I'm ready. Lay the ABCs on me. Is this like another personality test? Mark: Not at all. It's simpler and more profound. A is for Agency. This is your "me story." It's about your freedom, your accomplishments, your sense of being in control of your own life. Think of a classic hero's journey. Michelle: Makes sense. The desire to be the author of your own fate. Mark: B is for Belonging. This is your "we story." It's about your relationships, your family, your community, your tribe. It's about love and connection. Michelle: The need to be part of something. Got it. Mark: And C is for Cause. This is your "thee story." It's your purpose, your mission, something you serve that is bigger than yourself. It could be God, a political movement, a creative calling, or caring for others. Michelle: Agency, Belonging, Cause. Me, We, Thee. That’s actually a very elegant way to put it. Mark: It is. And Feiler argues that most of our lifequakes are crises in one of these three areas. A layoff is a crisis of Agency. A divorce is a crisis of Belonging. A loss of faith is a crisis of Cause. The healing process involves shoring up the pillar that was damaged, or sometimes, shifting your focus to a different one. Michelle: That's a dramatic example. How does this ABC thing apply to more everyday lifequakes? Mark: Let's look at a really intense story that shows how these forces work. Feiler tells the story of Christian Picciolini. He was a lonely, isolated kid in Chicago, the son of Italian immigrants. He felt like he didn't belong anywhere. At fourteen, he was smoking a joint in an alley when a charismatic man approached him, the founder of the Chicago Area Skinheads. Michelle: Oh no. Mark: The man told him, "That’s what the Communists and Jews want you to do." He offered Christian a new identity, a new family. A place to belong. For a lonely kid, that was everything. He was desperate for a 'we' story, and the neo-Nazi movement gave him one. It was toxic, but it filled that void. Michelle: He found Belonging in hate. That’s chilling. Mark: It is. He became a leader in the movement. But eventually, he started to see the cracks. He saw the real human pain his ideology was causing. He left the movement, but then he was truly lost. He'd lost his sense of Agency, his community, his entire identity. He fell into a deep depression. Michelle: So how did he rebuild? Mark: He rebuilt by finding a new 'we' story and, crucially, a 'thee' story. He reconnected with people from his past, apologized, and sought forgiveness. And then he found his Cause. He founded an organization called Life After Hate, dedicated to helping people leave extremist groups. He now says his motto is, "I treat the child, not the monster." He's using his own broken story to heal others. He went from a crisis of Belonging to finding his life's purpose in a Cause. Michelle: That's an incredible full-circle journey. This framework is great, but it still feels a bit high-level. When you're in what Feiler calls that 'messy middle,' when you're just lost, what are the actual tools you use to get through it?

Mark: Right, because theory is one thing, but action is another. Feiler outlines a whole "transition toolkit" with seven tools. They aren't a linear checklist; you use what you need when you need it. But a few are especially powerful. The first is "Mark It," which is all about rituals. Michelle: Rituals? That sounds a bit... abstract. Give me a concrete example of how a ritual actually helps someone who just lost their job or is going through a divorce. Mark: It's about creating structure when your world has none. It restores a sense of agency. Feiler tells the story of Margaret Patton. You might recognize the last name—she was the granddaughter of the famous World War II General George S. Patton. She grew up with immense privilege but felt completely disconnected from it. She was drawn to the Abbey of Regina Laudis, a Benedictine monastery in Connecticut. Michelle: From military royalty to a monastery. That's a serious lifequake. Mark: A profound one. But she didn't just show up and join. The process took ten years. A decade of wrestling with her decision, taking retreats at the abbey, leaving, coming back. The entire process was a long, slow ritual. There were rituals for clothing, for language, for commitment. These rituals gave shape to her shapeless transition. They provided stability as she shed one identity and slowly, deliberately, took on another. Michelle: So the ritual isn't just a ceremony at the end. The ritual is the transition. It's the container that holds you while you're falling apart and rebuilding. Mark: Exactly. It’s a container. And the final, and maybe most important, tool in the kit is "Tell It." You have to compose a fresh story. Michelle: It all comes back to storytelling. Mark: It always does. And there's real science here. He cites the work of psychologist James Pennebaker at the University of Texas. In a famous study, he had students write about the most traumatic experience of their lives for just fifteen minutes a day, for four days. Michelle: That sounds like it would just make them feel worse. Mark: In the short term, it did. They were sadder right after writing. But months later, the results were staggering. The students who wrote about their trauma had stronger immune systems, went to the doctor less often, and reported a greater sense of well-being. They had started to make sense of their experience. They had given it a narrative. Michelle: They wrote their way out of it. Mark: They wrote their way into a new understanding. Pennebaker did a similar study with laid-off engineers. The ones who wrote about their feelings and thoughts about the layoff were three times more likely to have found a new job seven months later. The act of writing their story gave them back a sense of agency and control. Michelle: So it all comes back to the beginning. We start with a broken story, and the way out is to... write a new one. But you have to choose to be the hero of it, right? Like Davon and Christy. You have to decide the bomb was a blessing or that being out of order was the best thing that ever happened to you.

Mark: Exactly. Feiler's biggest point, and I think the most empowering one, is that life isn't a straight line we follow; it's a story we tell. And in an age of constant disruption, where lifequakes are the norm, the most essential skill is becoming a better author of your own life. It's not about avoiding the rapids; it's about, as Garth Brooks sang, daring to 'dance the tide.' Michelle: It's a shift from being a passive character in your life to being the active writer. And that's where the power is. The book is really a manual for that process. It's not about having a perfect life, but about having a meaningful story. Mark: And that meaning is something we create, not something we find. We stitch together the past, present, and future. We find the redemption, we find the grace, we find the lesson. That's the work of a transition. Michelle: It makes you think... what's the story you're telling yourself right now? And is it time for a rewrite? Mark: That's the question for all of us. We'd love to hear from our listeners about a transition you've navigated. What was the tool that helped you most? Was it a ritual? Was it finding your 'ABC'? Let us know on our social channels. Michelle: This is Aibrary, signing off.