Starting a New Year — A Little Less Invincible

Originally posted on my JorgeDiaries Substack | This is a continuation of the journal of my recovery process, since my previous blog, “Doing Embarrassingly Well”.

I sit here finally getting down to write about something I’ve been thinking about for a few days now — the start of a new year in my life. As my family knows, I have always viewed my birthday differently than most. For me, it’s never just another day of cake and candles. It is the first day of my new year — a celebration of everything the past twelve months brought, and a genuine excitement for what the next twelve might hold.

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Starting a new year of life always feels a little bittersweet. But this one feels especially meaningful. After having a heart attack last April, I am incredibly grateful to simply be here. Grateful for every morning. Grateful for every person who has been part of this journey — the ones who showed up, the ones who checked in, and the ones who just quietly made sure I was okay. You know who you are.

This past year was unlike any other I have lived. I was faced, rather abruptly, with the fact that I am not invincible. My heart attack in early April 2025 was both an eye-opener and a wake-up call. I was fortunate to come through it with what the doctors called minor damage, and I am almost back to my normal self — but something has shifted. It is hard to explain exactly. It is not just the daily handful of pills that serve as a quiet reminder each morning of what happened. It is something deeper than that.

I think I am simply more intentional now. More present. I have less patience for things that don’t matter and more appreciation for the things that do. I am writing more. I am sitting with quiet moments longer — really sitting with them, not just passing through. The sunsets from our new home in Cave Creek, Arizona are absolutely spectacular, and I find myself stopping to watch them in a way I probably wouldn’t have before. The mountains, the stillness, the sky turning colors — we are truly loving it out there. And yes, we moved too! That was its own adventure woven into an already eventful year.

There are some trade-offs that come with this new chapter, of course. I watch what I eat more carefully. I take the pills. I have to be more thoughtful about certain activities — no more going off-roading on my own, no more being careless with sharp objects. Social gatherings are still a bit of a challenge, though that gets better with time. But honestly, these are small prices to pay. Every sunset I get to watch, every morning I get to wake up — that is the real math.

Over the holidays, we had a wonderful time in Costa Rica visiting family, including my father, and celebrating the wedding of our first nephew. My father was in incredible shape — socializing, talking, and dancing like I haven’t seen in years. It was genuinely great to see him so full of life.

But out of all the beautiful moments from that trip, there is one that I keep coming back to. One afternoon, without any planning or prompting from us, the nephews — and their significant others — quietly made arrangements to get together at the Airbnb where we were staying. They started trickling in around 2:30 in the afternoon, and by 3:15, they were all there. We had no idea they were coming. No food was prepared. My wife, as she always does, made the best of it with grace and warmth.

And the adults in the room just sat back and listened. What unfolded over the next few hours was one of those rare, unrepeatable things. Conversations, laughter, stories — a group of young people who hadn’t all been in the same room together in years, just being together. No agenda. No occasion. Just them, choosing each other. It filled my heart in a way that is hard to put into words. That was the moment of the trip. That was the moment of the year, maybe. A reminder that the best things are often the ones you didn’t plan for.

One of the people I am most proud of is my wife, who is doing great new things with her art – new skulls, promoting beyond art fairs, and soon to be in an art gallery or two! and also using ChatGPT to help her in her day-to-day life.

Speaking of AI, I have been deeply immersed in learning how to use artificial intelligence in ways that go well beyond the basics — not just as a chatbot, but as a genuine productivity tool, for programming, for thinking through complex problems, for what people are now calling agentic and vibe coding. I developed and launched the latest version of my art site, Doodlingjorge.com using nothing but language words instructions. (Check it our and like a couple of designs!) The possibilities are genuinely staggering, and the pace of change is unlike anything I have seen in my career. I have been sharing what I learn with colleagues at work, with the people I mentor, and with friends and family who are curious. Watching people have their “aha” moment with this technology never gets old. For me personally, one of the most meaningful applications has been using it to help me understand the medical reports and explanations I have received since April. What used to feel like a dense wall of clinical language now gets translated into something I can actually read, process, and ask follow-up questions about. That alone has been a game changer — and a real source of comfort during a year when understanding what was happening in my own body mattered more than ever.

Side note: Did you see the latest chinese dancing robots performance at the 2026 Spring Festival Gala or AI generated crazy good country singer (voice and face) that went viral?

Hang on to your hats on this AI wave as it becomes mainstream.

So here I am. A new year. A little more experienced, a little more intentional, a little more in love with quiet moments and good sunsets and the sound of people I love talking in the next room — and yes, as my wife keeps reminding me, a little less invincible.