21 June 2026

Dear friend,

It has been almost two years now since I came to Querétaro. Long enough that the cobblestones no longer feel like someone else’s history, and the afternoon light has become a kind of companion. When I first wrote to you from here, I was still arriving. Still a little breathless from the leaving. What I can tell you now, from further in, is that the thing I came looking for was never out ahead of me. It was underneath. It was the work of life alignment, waiting in the place I had not thought to look.

Life alignment, I have learned, is less a destination than a rhythm. It is a remembering. It is the slow return to who we are beneath everything we have gathered and carried and called ourselves.

This letter is not a note from a new home. It is a reflection from a life that has had time to settle, written to you as much as to myself.

With time, my sense of authenticity has changed shape again. What I once mistook for freedom, the achievement, the title, the long accounting of what I had done, now reads to me like the opening chapter of a story I had not yet found the courage to say aloud. Living here has given me room. And in that room, clarity. Not the kind that announces itself, but the kind that stays.

What surprised me most is how ordinary it has become. Life alignment is not a single grand turning. It is a hundred small returns. The morning walk. The work that asks something true of me. The willingness to disappoint the version of myself I once performed for others. México did not hand me this. It made room for it. The slower pace, the long afternoon light, the way a city built over centuries holds time without hurry, all of it loosened the grip of the life I once thought I was supposed to want.

It was never reinvention. It was remembering.

This is the ground I now walk with the people I coach and teach. Not a method to be mastered, but a remembering to be trusted. We spend so long becoming someone the world will approve of that we forget there was a self underneath all along, asking only to be lived. Life alignment is the practice of letting that self come forward, and of staying with it when the old habits call us back.

In the revised edition of A Life Aligned, now available in paperback, eBook, and audiobook, I follow these awakenings, my own and the ones shared with clients, students, and fellow travelers along the way. The book is an invitation to return to the parts of ourselves that never needed fixing, only witnessing. This letter is where that invitation begins.

In the months ahead I will be sharing more from Paradise (re)Discovered, arriving this fall. It moves across the same ground I have been walking: the awakening, the descent, and the long road home. Between the books, I keep writing from here, and you can read those letters on Substack whenever you would like to walk along. For now, I hope this finds you somewhere you can breathe, and sit a moment with a question worth carrying: what part of me is still waiting to come home?