Discovering Teachers in Disguise

Finding Wisdom in Espresso, Connections, and Everyday Experiences

There are teachers who arrive in our lives cloaked in robes of ancient lineage, and there are those who slip into our awareness through the steam of a coffee cup, or the shuffling of city feet.

In Eastern philosophy, the teacher is not always a formal guru perched atop a monastery. Sometimes, the teacher is life itself. Every encounter, every mistake, every heartbreak—each one arrives with a scroll of hidden knowledge, asking if we’re ready to read it.

The Tao Te Ching tells us that “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear,” but the Tao doesn’t specify what form that teacher will take. It might be an elder on a mountaintop or a gangly, sharp-minded executive coach sitting beside you in a crowded Denver coffeehouse.

Chance Encounter

In 2011, I met one of the most pivotal teachers of my life: Russell Owens. I was at a crossroads. My marriage was ending. I was emotionally snapped apart, spiritually raw. I wandered into Aviano Coffee, then a snug, intimate space at 2nd and St. Paul in Denver’s stylish Cherry Creek North district. It was a place where the scent of espresso mingled with the musings of creatives, dealmakers, and weary souls needing a pause.

Russell stood out. Tall and lean, he had the quiet posture of someone who had spent time thinking deeply. A mergers and acquisitions veteran turned executive coach, he had the clarity of Wall Street and the soul of a monk. Our conversation flowed easily, as if we’d known each other across lifetimes. That afternoon was the beginning of a series of conversations that would become my informal apprenticeship in navigating pain, loss, and rediscovery.

Russell had spent years immersed in both Eastern and Western philosophy, threading together the teachings of the Bhagavad Gita, the Tao Te Ching, and Jungian psychology. But it was his simple, embodied presence that made him extraordinary. He didn’t offer advice in bullet points or try to “fix” me. He listened. He was grounded. He gave space.

And he shared with me the most important spiritual teaching I’ve ever received:

“The Next One Thing.”

That Next Thang

This was Russell’s mantra, though it echoed ancient traditions. It was a mindfulness practice rooted in Buddhist awareness: to focus exclusively on the one thing that’s right in front of you. Not five steps ahead. Not the regrets in the rearview mirror. But this moment. Right here. Right now.

Whether it was sipping coffee, folding laundry, or grieving an old identity, “The Next One Thing” was a way of retraining the mind to presence. It was like Zen, but in sneakers. Like a koan wrapped in the rhythm of everyday life.

Through this lens, I began to rebuild. Not all at once, but one breath, one act, one lesson at a time. Russell reminded me of Phil Jackson, the legendary NBA coach and spiritual explorer whose book Sacred Hoops shaped my early understanding of leadership and consciousness. Jackson too practiced Zen, weaving meditation into the fierce hustle of professional basketball.

Both men understood something essential: To live fully is to be fully here.

The Spiritual Role of Teachers

In the Bhagavad Gita, the warrior Arjuna is paralyzed by doubt before a great battle. His charioteer, Krishna, is not merely a driver but a spiritual teacher, guiding him through the fog of confusion. Krishna’s role is to awaken Arjuna to dharma—right action through awareness and detachment.

The Tao Te Ching, meanwhile, says:

“The sage teaches without words, and acts without doing.”

A true teacher doesn’t impose. They illuminate. They live in such a way that their presence itself becomes the lesson.

The I Ching, or Book of Changes, reminds us that life is not static. It is a dance of transformation, and the best teachers help us read the hexagrams of our lives, not with rigid certainty, but with attunement to flow. A good teacher, like a wise interpreter of the I Ching, doesn’t tell you what to do. They help you notice what time it is in your life—and how to move with it.

Russell didn’t give me answers. He helped me become a better student of change.

Life as the Ultimate Teacher

Russell’s guidance illuminated a broader realization: life is always teaching. Sometimes the lessons are gentle nudges. Other times, they are devastating earthquakes. A failed relationship, a lost job, a move to a new city—each can be a form of sacred curriculum.

But you have to show up. You have to pay attention.

And above all, you have to stop assuming the teacher will wear a robe.

Sometimes they wear hoodies and drink cortados.

Five Nuggets of Wisdom for Meeting Life’s Teachers

🤔 Stay Curious in Conversation

Every person you meet carries a fragment of truth you may need. Cultivate a posture of curiosity. Ask questions. Be willing to be shaped by the unexpected.

🤖 Welcome Disruption

The ending of my marriage hurt like hell. But it cracked open the door for Russell to enter. Pain often clears space for new insights. Don’t rush to seal the wound. Rather, see what wisdom leaks out.

⭕️ Practice Presence Before You Need It

We all know the buzzwords—mindfulness, authenticity, grounding. But do we practice them when no one’s watching? “The Next One Thing” taught me that showing up for each moment is a revolutionary act.

📚 Read The Invisible Scripts

Eastern texts teach that life is full of signs. The I Ching calls it “reading the changes.” Notice patterns. Notice resistance. Notice joy. The more attuned you become, the more you’ll realize the world is full of unspoken guidance.

🙌 Say Yes to the Strange Invitations

Had I not walked into Aviano Coffee that day, I may have missed one of my most important life mentors. Say yes to the unlikely conversation. Say yes to the last-minute invite. You never know who is sitting beside your destiny.

Closing Reflections

Russell and I eventually moved on, and we’ve long since lost regular contact. But his impact endures. Yet in my daily life, I still return to “The Next One Thing.” It’s become a compass of simplicity in a world obsessed with complexity.

I believe teachers appear in many forms:

The stranger on the subway.

The barista who smiles just when you need it.

The book that falls off the shelf.

The silence between heartbreak and healing.

Each one says, “Are you paying attention?”

Eastern philosophy doesn’t separate the sacred from the ordinary. It teaches us that the entire world is our temple, and every step, every stumble, every sip of tea is a possible initiation.

The Tao, the Gita, and the I Ching all agree: Wisdom doesn’t come from clinging to certainty. It comes from surrendering to the dance. And in that surrender, a teacher will come—often in unexpected form.

And when they do, your only job…

is to be present for The Next One Thing.

Would you be kind enough to support full-time independent writers like me by subscribing today. Or, if you’re feeling generous in a small way, maybe you’ll wanna send a little (or a lot) of dirty chai latte love my direction. Every bit helps keep this Taoist journey flowing.