Life Quake: When the Ground Beneath You Breaks to Set You Free
There’s a word I recently came across — lifequake.
It describes a sudden and significant shift in your life’s trajectory. At first, it feels devastating. Like the foundation you were standing on has cracked wide open, and nothing makes sense anymore. But over time, something else begins to emerge — growth, transformation, even rebirth.
In 2017, I lived through a lifequake of my own.
I had poured years into a job — time, money, effort, energy — the kind of investment that becomes part of your identity. But a toxic environment and sustained bullying made it impossible to stay. I reached a point where I couldn’t breathe in that space any longer. So I left.
On the surface, it may have looked like a choice. But inside, I was falling apart.
The departure didn’t bring immediate relief — it brought devastation. Disorientation. A complete loss of who I thought I was. What I didn’t understand at the time was that I was also being impacted by a deeper current — a silent shift in my body and mind that no one seemed to acknowledge. I was being told “nothing was wrong,” but I knew something was. I now recognize it as part of the transition many women go through in midlife, when hormones shift and mental health can spiral. But then, it just felt like I was unraveling for no reason.
It was during one of my regular morning walks along the beach that something broke through.
Not a lightning bolt, not an epiphany — just a quiet moment. The sky was open, the waves rhythmic. And I suddenly heard, or felt, a clear message:
“You need to meditate.”
Simple. Unexpected. And for the first time in a long time — calming.
That moment didn’t fix everything. But it opened a door. It gave me something to hold onto. And more than anything, it planted a seed of hope that maybe this wasn’t the end of me — maybe it was the beginning of something deeper.
What a Lifequake Feels Like
Looking back, I can see the signs I missed — signs that I was in the middle of a lifequake. If you’re wondering whether you might be in one now, here are a few things to look for:
A deep sense of misalignment, even when life looks “fine” from the outside
Constant exhaustion that rest doesn’t touch
A feeling that your identity is crumbling or unclear
Breakdowns, abrupt endings, or emotional outbursts that seem out of character
An intuitive pull toward change, even when it feels terrifying
Grieving something you can’t quite name
A growing urge to be alone, go inward, or reconnect to something spiritual
The sense that you’ve outgrown your life, but have no idea what comes next
Lifequakes can be triggered by all kinds of events — loss, illness, burnout, betrayal, or simply a buildup of quiet suffering that finally demands attention. They aren’t pretty. They aren’t linear. But they carry a strange intelligence. They tear down what no longer serves, so something truer can rise in its place.
What Happened Next
What followed wasn’t a clean upward path. Healing rarely is.
After that beach walk, I started meditating — just a few minutes at first, sitting in silence, unsure if I was doing it “right.” But something subtle began to shift. I wasn’t trying to control my life anymore — I was learning to meet myself where I was.
I began paying attention to what nourished me and what drained me. I gave myself permission to rest without guilt. I started asking better questions: What do I want? What do I need? Who am I when no one is watching?
Therapy helped. Time helped. So did walking, journaling, crying, creating. I didn’t go back to the same kind of work — at least not in the same way. I became more selective. More protective of my energy. I started rebuilding my life from the inside out, not from expectations or survival mode.
There were still doubts, still days when I wondered if I had made a huge mistake. But gradually, I realized: I hadn’t lost myself — I had finally stopped running from myself.
And now? I live with more presence. I listen more closely. I trust my intuition, especially when it’s quiet. I no longer measure my worth by productivity or praise. I’ve learned that wellbeing isn’t a luxury — it’s the ground everything stands on.
The lifequake didn’t just change my direction — it gave me back my center.
Not all destruction is a tragedy. Some of it is sacred.
If You’re in the Rubble, Start Here
If any part of this feels familiar — if your life has cracked open and you don’t know what comes next — start small. Start with your breath. With quiet. With care. You don’t need to fix it all. You just need to come home to yourself.
I have created a gentle guide to support women through these transitions:
21 Days of Mindfulness - A Guided Meditation Series for Women’s Wellbeing — a simple, nourishing way to reconnect with your body, your breath, and your inner voice.
You don’t have to do it alone. And you don’t have to be who you were before.
Let the quake clear the way.
