10 Months to Live the Best Year of Our Lives

Today marks the end of the second month of 2026, and it's the perfect time to reflect on the things I've experienced these past 59 days. The week ending today was significant for me because I've been without my voice at 100% due to laryngitis. I sing in my country's national choir, but these days of silence, sitting in the back row of a 90-singer choir, are similar to what I've been doing so far this year: remaining silent and observing everything and everyone. And boy, is it that you learn a lot when you're calm and quiet...

The photos I'm sharing today were taken in Granada, Spain, specifically at the Hotel Saray. Something similar happened to me in that city, but it didn't last long. I was walking around Úbeda at midnight, exploring its beautiful corners, and the next day I had a weak voice and woke up with inflammation in my vocal cords. The good thing is that our concert in Granada wasn't that night, but the following day, so I forced myself to rest. An injection and remaining silent for 24 hours was perfect for healing, but also for reflecting on the experience I was having by leaving my borders for the first time and letting myself be accompanied only by the most valuable people in my circle of friends.

I made the decision to live the best year of my life in 2026. Gone is that young Jesús who jokingly said he always had a good year and a bad year; since life allowed me to start traveling and live my music career to the fullest, my plans have focused solely on success and breaking every possible record, all for the benefit of my personal growth. Being happy with what I have is my only goal, and having a positive attitude towards life has helped me a lot.

Keeping quiet and distancing myself from people who think very differently from me has been key these days, always within the minimum respect that should exist between people. And although I have helped many who I've noticed need it, I've realized that I'm surrounded by people who are not only broken, but bleeding in their souls, and believe me, there are many of them in my musical niche. Music is not easy; it is one of the most competitive job fields, and its way of measuring quality is very relative, which leads many people to live in frustration, especially in countries like mine where there is not enough culture or spaces for the symphonic movement.

I've felt incredibly blessed in my work, possibly because since childhood I've loved singing in choirs and the whole sound of epic music: powerful voices, magnificent orchestras, and breathtaking stages. And thank God, my life has taken that path. Of course, as a musician, I have some frustrations. It would have been amazing to have a career like Michael Jackson's, why not? But I always wanted to make music, especially singing, and now I make a living from it. The thing is, most of my colleagues want something more, and many seem to think they would only be truly happy if they achieved their goals as soloists, whether in popular music or opera.

Almost all our problems stem from the simple fact of having been born in this part of the world, but I'm also aware that we set our own limits, no matter how difficult the financial aspect may be for us to start a long-term project. Two years ago in Granada, specifically in the quiet lobby of this hotel, I saw everyone happy and enjoying the camaraderie with the other singers, but this week, in a year that began with many explosive surprises for Venezuela, I've noticed that frustration and sadness are part of the routine, so much so that they make me think I'm surrounded by a toxic work environment, even though my optimism and desire to work aren't affected. But many people I care about are definitely feeling the effects of this situation.

This year has been so strange that just last night, February 27th, was our first public performance of the year. We began by singing a Lenten Mass and ended with a short performance of sacred music. I was happy and very inspired by the music, and in fact, I shed a few tears when we sang Robert Pearsall's Tu Es Petrus and Paul Mealor's Locus Iste. It's impossible for me to be in a Catholic church, sing this music, and feel nothing, when my heart grows more grateful every day for being alive, and now I truly understand the value of life.

When it was all over and I left the church, I started hearing complaints from many of the people who had sung with me. While I was in heaven, some of them were never able to concentrate or feel the music. How shocking this is to me! And in fact, I realized that I can't be surrounded by people like that. While I sang for the first time that week, without much effort because I'm still recovering, others were complaining about everything, even the way the audience was looking at us, something totally absurd to me...

I know everyone has their reasons and motives, and I respect everyone's opinion, but I also know what I want and don't want around me. I dare say I'm a well-liked person in our immediate circle of work friends, and I'm referring to my married couple's friends, who are often my wife's friends and are therefore a part of my daily life. But I'm getting a little fed up with so much negativity, and I don't like it when they infuse my wife with that energy. My opinion is always firm when the topic comes up; life is complicated enough without making it more so, and no one is obligated to be part of an environment they don't like. It's a strong opinion, but very true.

We're not a country with many opportunities for musicians within our own nation, and in fact, where we are seems to be the best option for us, but people can't sacrifice their peace of mind for money, or at least that's what I think. I believe I am writing these words because I realize the damage that opposition can do to a project from within, but at the same time, I know that the positive energy of those of us who live each day with passion is stronger and keeps alive what has been built over years.

There's only one person I'm truly worried about, and she's the only person I'm responsible for saving, or at least trying to, because I love her, and she's a part of me. I understand that everyone climbs out of the abyss only when they truly want to, but when love is involved, we always want to help make the path of pain easier.

Lately, it seems the best thing I can do is set a good example through my actions, so I'll stick with that, but it doesn't mean I'm going to live just so she notices, no. I do it out of passion for life, to fully love every gift that time has given me and to live each day as if it were my last. We're not the ones to judge the pain of others, but if we are a light for ourselves, at some point a ray of hope might reach a wounded soul. I've been there, and that's why I say this: it was the example of many other people that pulled me out of the deepest sadness and frustration at the time. It doesn't matter if we make mistakes again; what's important is being aware of them, recognizing them, and finding a way to move forward. Let's not stay at rock bottom; that's not living. It's only February 28th; we still have 10 months ahead to live the best year of our lives 🙏