The Next Right Thing

The coolest dude I ever met,

the one man who taught me

more than anyone,

*

was named Diego Mondragon.

*

I met him on a train called the Texas Eagle,

on a long ride from Los Angeles to Texas,

as I was nursing a broken heart

*

and wondering why the angels didn’t love me anymore.

*

He boarded the train in Lordsburg, New Mexico,

wearing crisp starched Levis, python boots,

sunglasses, and a t-shirt that said

*

“Sin lucha, no hay victoria.”

*

The train car was filling up fast,

and my window seat was empty.

Diego asked whether it was occupied

*

simply by raising his chin.

*

I stood up to let him have the seat,

then we both settled in for the ride.

He stashed his briefcase, but not before

*

pulling out a copy of Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations.

*

I knew the book. Have a copy of my own,

read it still, every day, but his was

read in the true sense of the word:

*

the leather cover worn, pages marked with notations.

*

He pulled off his glasses, revealing the

brownest eyes I’d ever seen, luminous

pools of wisdom and calm, and extended his hand:

*

“I am Diego. Thank you for the seat.”

*

I nodded in assent, noticing the hint

of a diamond’s flash from the ring on his finger,

picking up the glitter from the bigger stone in his earlobe.

*

My worries and fears evaporated, strangely.

*

I knew I was in the presence of a bodhisattva,

so I just accepted the blessing and regulated my breathing,

took it all in, grateful for the calm,

*

grateful for the presence, as he began to read.

*

The train moved east from Lordsburg

towards Deming, and after about an hour, Diego

closed the book and took a deep breath.

*

I noticed the tattoos then, one on each inner forearm.

*

“I am of the nature to die,” said one, above a skull,

then beneath, “There is no way to escape death.” A memento mori.

The other more cryptic:

*

“Do TNRT.”

*

Diego noticed the look on my face,

pointed to the first on his left arm:

“This is the third Remembrance of Buddhism,

*

“of which there are five.”

*

Then pointing to his right arm:

“This is an acronym of my own creation,

which is the guiding principle of my life.

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“Do The Next Right Thing.”

*

And then the discourse began.

We talked through the night,

me baring my soul,

*

Diego salving the wounds with his wisdom.

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He taught me, through his example,

the beauty of the Eternal Present Moment,

how to release the illusion of the past

*

and take the lessons from all my experiences.

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Transmuting the shame into wisdom,

the pain into strength,

the darkness into Light.

*

All by learning the virtue of The Next Right Thing.

*

And when the Texas Eagle pulled into Austin,

Diego got up to leave, and as I arose to let him pass,

he shook my hand again,

*

and handed me his copy of Meditations.

*

I shook my head at the enormity of the gift,

protesting I was not worthy of such a sacrifice,

but he just smiled and embraced me.

*

“Worthiness is not something you earn. It is something you remember.”