Even though I’m holding it in my hands, I still can’t quite believe it: that so many years of work and learning have taken shape as a physical book. And the result couldn’t make me prouder—a beautiful edition, with its own cover, its own pages, its own weight. Behind it lie countless late nights of reading and rereading, diving back into the blog, rescuing memories and weaving them into a coherent narrative… letting go of what didn’t serve the story and elevating what did.
If the mere existence of the book amazes me, I’m even more moved by the affection and enthusiasm with which it’s been received.
An emotional presentation in Madrid
Last week, The Art of Detachment was presented in Madrid at an intimate, simple, and heartfelt gathering of about forty people. It took place on the seventh floor of a building on Calle Velázquez, at SpaceTh1, and I admit: the moment overwhelmed me.
As of December 3, Gestión 2000 of Grupo Planeta will place the book in bookstores across Spain, as well as in ebook format for those who prefer digital—adapted, of course, for the peninsular reader. Afterwards, it will also be available in Mexico and Costa Rica in its original version.
Surrounded by family and close friends
I was especially moved by those who crossed the ocean to be there.
From Costa Rica came Álex, my wife; Adri, my daughter; and Carlos—my brother, whom we lovingly call “Leach.”
From Atlanta came Julio González, who never fails and has inspired me immensely.
Having them there—on such a meaningful day, in a city I adore, in front of a book that took so long to bring to life—meant everything to me. I honestly can’t find a more accurate expression than that.
Friends, colleagues, and readers joined as well, though I’ll refrain from naming them one by one so I don’t accidentally leave anyone out. But I want each of them to know how deeply I appreciate their presence, their company, and their time. A special mention goes to the beloved Margenat family of Oller del Mas, whose warmth only they know how to give.
The house that became my home
Among everyone present, one presence was essential: Thinking Heads.
I must thank them not only for so generously hosting the event, but for much more. For two full years, they’ve been what I can only describe as my literary home. They have been my springboard and my support, my guide and my gentle torment. My outlet, my safety net, and—without exaggeration—a group of soul-friends.
Working on the book—a long, demanding process that required vast patience—taught me something important: publishing on my blog, freely and without deadlines, is one thing. Writing a book is quite another. That journey, with all its discipline, vulnerability, and rigor, was only possible because I had an extraordinary team behind me.
Thank you to Dani and Antonio, steadfast in friendship; to Iván, Ana, Rodrigo, Belén, Elena, Rocío, the other Elena, Salvador, Juanjo and the entire Th1 team, who— even on the heaviest days—made the process feel guided, warm, and deeply human.
The cover that says it all
A special mention goes to Costa Rican designer Noé Arias of Changos Inc., who created the cover. In it, he captured the coexistence of our shadows and our light, the way they overlap in constant transition. The intertwined figures suggest that detachment is not rupture, but integration: letting go with awareness to live more freely, more lightly, more authentically.
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It is symbolism in its purest form—an image that does not describe, but reveals. And each time I look at it, I see, with total clarity, the portrait of every human being: always becoming, always shedding in order to be.
The orchestra conductor
Among everyone on the team, one person deserves a very special spotlight: Beatriz Rodríguez. She was the orchestra conductor—the one who made everything possible. Without her, I genuinely doubt I would be writing these words today, because the book likely would not exist. Her leadership shaped The Art of Detachment into what it ultimately became.
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Writing a book feels solitary, and at moments it is. But getting it into the world—into the hands of readers who don’t know you—requires a team. And teams need a leader. Bea was that leader: setting the pace, holding the structure, and—perhaps the hardest of all—ensuring I met every deadline. Revisions, edits, cuts, rewrites… anyone who has published a book will understand.
In many ways, the process itself was detachment in its purest essence: continually letting go in order to move forward.
The presentation with Thinking Heads and Toni Segarra
The event in Madrid was something I will treasure forever. I was joined by Toni Segarra, an internationally renowned advertiser with 39 Cannes Lions to his name—a true privilege. With him, I spoke not only about the book and my intentions behind it, but also about creativity, the craft of advertising, ego, freedom, the twists of life, and of course, detachment as a way to make room for what matters. It was a deeply human conversation. At times, given his background, I felt he understood everything reflected in the book—even though he confessed he hadn’t yet read it.
After the presentation, we shared a cocktail, exchanged hugs and laughter, and toasted with wine from Oller del Mas—thank you, Frank and Laia. The wine, which bears my surname (though it is not my own), was the perfect metaphor for the book’s message: everything is passing, everything is borrowed, nothing fully belongs to us.
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Grateful in the theater of our dreams
Madrid always welcomes me as though I were coming home, even if I’m only passing through Barajas. It is a city that embraces you, whose people offer closeness and genuine interest. An ideal backdrop for the debut of The Art of Detachment.
To everyone who was there—in person, in spirit, on the road, offering support—thank you.
To Thinking Heads, boundless thanks.
To my family, for being my roots and my light.
To my friends, for simply being.
And to Gestión 2000 of Grupo Planeta, thank you for publishing me.
Grateful to life—the stage on which our dreams unfold
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A glimpse of what’s next. Next comes the presentation in Costa Rica, with the loving support of our dear friends Carmen Mayela Fallas and Edgar Mata of CCK, at the Texas Tech auditorium in Avenida Escazú… in our own land, our nest in life.
This is just another beginning.
The book will now fly freely, on its own, ready to meet eyes and hearts I have not yet met.
And that, truly, is the beauty of letting go.
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