The Long Shortcut

When the path should be straighter than it is.

NOTE:

A little something from me to you.

This is the latest from my writing space known as The Sunday Debrief—a weekly note where I slow down, get honest, and reflect on what’s really unfolding in my life and work.

Part journal, part mirror.

My hope? That something in it helps you hear your own truth more clearly.

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There’s the path you think will get you there faster…

And then there’s the one that actually will.

Sometimes we chase clarity, alignment, or healing by trying to outsmart the process. We assume we’ve already done the work. We assume we’ve already arrived. But there’s a difference between moving quickly and moving through. And sooner or later, the illusion breaks.

This week, it did.

✨ Where the illusion breaks

This week was very much about me coming directly up against one of the biggest questions most—if not all—of us seek an answer to in our lifetime.

Who am I, really?

Here I am, ten days into this month-long process of return. I’ve alluded to it over the past few Sunday Debriefs, but up until now, I felt like I was cruising. Ahead of the game. Dialed in. The kind of flow-state confidence you feel when you just crushed your favorite route—on snow, dirt, in the gym, wherever your edge lives.

And then Day 11 arrived.

I still hear his voice in my head—Tracey, a mentor from way back:

“The truth will set you free… but first it punches you square in the mouth.”

That’s about what Day 11 felt like.

I’ve spent the better part of a decade helping people see who they really are. Not the roles they play or the polished image they project. The essence underneath. The version of themselves that has always been there, just waiting to be remembered. That’s been a big part of what I carry. The ability to see it. To name it. To draw it out.

But this week, that gift came full circle—and turned inward. I was the one who needed to be seen more clearly. And not through the lens of what I’ve done or how far I’ve come, but through the parts of me I was still hiding behind.

I had a coaching call with a spiritual mentor of mine. He opened with a question that stopped me in my tracks:

“Where is the light shining this week, giving you the gift of what needs to grow in order for you to reach your next level?”

Then he followed it with something I didn’t want to hear:

“If you feel more challenge than blessing in your life, you’re doing it wrong.”

And he was right. Because if I’m being honest, life has felt like more of a grind than a gift lately.

I started that day feeling grounded and clear. But within hours, it all unraveled. The familiar inner spiral. The frustration. The pull to retreat. I didn’t want to feel any of it.

But this time, I didn’t push it away. I sat in it. I let it breathe.

And that’s when I remembered what this month is actually about. Elul is the month of return. But not return in a moralistic sense. Return in the deepest spiritual sense. Returning to mission. Returning to truth. Returning to what’s always been inside of me, but may have been buried under performance, image, or fear.

Another old teaching came to mind, from a different mentor:

“For the harvest to become a bounty, the corn first has to die.”

It’s not collapse. It’s compost.

The death of the image so that the essence can finally live.

This week, I saw the version of me I had still been trying to protect. The part that wanted to be seen as ahead. That mistook progress for presence. That forgot that alignment is what makes the difference—not effort alone.

What emerged wasn’t something new. It was something ancient. Something I’ve carried for decades.

👐 Returning to my hands

And yes, you’d be correct if this sounds like a continuation of last week’s entry. But this went deeper. This wasn’t just peeling back another layer—this was stepping out of the shell that was and into the spirit and soul that is. These weren’t new revelations. These were the pieces of me that have always been. But now, for the first time, they converged. The quotes, the teachings, the journal entries, the moments of silence—this week they came together into something alive.

A few weeks ago, I took on a case that brought me all the way back to my roots. A patient with plantar fasciitis, the kind of pain that can last six months or longer—sometimes over a year. I’ve seen this before. I used to be the go-to guy for this condition between two major cities. My results were consistent: give me two weeks, and I’ll at least get you turning the corner—if not fully out of pain.

And right on time, two weeks in—daily disabling pain became intermittent discomfort. The patient now has tools to self-treat and relieve it within minutes.

It felt like seeing my North Star again.

Another case: a blown-out ankle sprain that sidelined a climber last December. After months of inactivity, we started working together. A few group sessions through Reclaim Your Range™. Some one-on-one care. The turning point came during a classic midfoot manipulation. Specifically, the navicular.

And just like that—back to full activity with almost no pain.

Today, that same patient hiked more than six miles, pain-free.

The first time since the injury.

So what shifted?

Even when I entered chiropractic school, I didn’t see this coming. I carried a huge skeleton into that space—I hated chiropractors. The kind of hate rooted in principle. And yet there I was, enrolling in the very thing I said I’d never become.

At the time, I didn’t know I was following anything sacred. I didn’t know about the deeper calling embedded in my hands. I just knew something was pulling me.

And here I am now, almost two decades in, finally returning to the healer I was always meant to be. The one who doesn’t need to posture. Doesn’t need to convince. Just needs to remember—this is my work. This is my medicine.

It’s not new. It’s the return.

🪞 A Mirror for You

So the real question becomes this—what part of you is waiting to be remembered?

Not rebuilt. Not upgraded. Just reclaimed.

Because for a lot of people, the reason things feel so off isn’t because they’re broken or behind. It’s because they’ve been rehearsing a version of themselves that isn’t even true anymore. They’re showing up in their life from an old script. And it’s exhausting.

We spend so much time trying to “fix” what’s not working, or force clarity around what’s next, when what we may really need is to pause long enough to recognize what’s been trying to come back through. Something we already were. Something we already knew. A way we once moved, once thought, once spoke to ourselves—that we’ve since forgotten.

This week reminded me that the return doesn’t come with a spotlight. It comes with surrender. It comes with listening. And eventually, it comes with ownership.

So I’ll ask you what I had to ask myself…

Who are you, really?

And where have you been hiding?

If something in you stirs in response to that, you’re not alone. That’s not a problem to solve—it’s a signal to follow.

If you’re ready to begin that return—whether through movement, breath, or one-on-one care—I’ve opened up space this month for a few people who are serious about stepping back into their body and their truth.

You already know.

The question is—are you willing to write it down and tell yourself the truth?

Wishing you the very best in health in the week ahead,

— Alex