Pico Iyer is a travel writer unlike any other. In The Half Known Life: In Search of Paradise, Iyer takes readers to cultures, even during times of unrest, in fascinating ways that will make you sometimes squirm with discomfort for his lifestyle on the road. The author of more than a dozen books and a well-known TED talks presenter, Iyer transports readers of The Half Known Life to North Korea, Sri Lanka, Iran, Ethiopia, Jerusalem, inner Australia, Nazareth, Kashmir, and Varanasi.

Iyer, who has known the Dalai Lama for three decades, explores how peoples around the world live and seek paradise. His conclusions evolve as he maintains an open mind, even during violent times.

He learns at every stop. Some of his observations:

1. Paradise has to be accessible to all, so one religion or people cannot define it.
2. We must all die, so we must live well.
3. Does our search for paradise “aggravate our differences?”
4. In North Korea, he seeks to find out “what a whole nation built around a secular faith might look like.”
5. The places we avoid may be closer to us than the places we seek out.
6. Paradise exists in the present. He says the Dalai Lama believes “the meaning of life lies in what we can do right now.”
7. “The churning current of Varanasi threw everything and its opposite together, and declared it holy.”
8. He quotes Thomas Merton, who explored the extremes of Sri Lanka. “The more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer.”

I was fortunate to have known Pico Iyer’s late father while I was a student at the University of California at Santa Barbara in the 1970s. I took three classes taught by Raghavan Iyer: a political philosophy course, anarchist thought, and one about the life and philosophy of Mahatma Gandhi. Iyer was unlike any teacher I have known and his lectures drew standing ovations every single time. The hundreds of us who packed the lecture halls knew we were in the presence of a great thinker. He used no notes and spoke more eloquently than anyone I have ever heard.

But, like his son, Dr. Iyer eschewed pedestals. Both men wanted their words to resonate and enrich our lives. At UCSB, I often wished I could push the repeat button after Iyer’s classes. After I finished The Half Known Life, I returned to page one and read the book again.