There I was on a deck, lying on a table. The birds were singing and the smell of oils and nearby foliage was all about. The weather was warm, soothing; the sky a cobalt blue. I felt like I was in the midst of something—I don't know, a cradle or a womb—a prenatal glade. The ceiling fan was swirling in dulcet, all around. And little dark hands were moving gently all over me. I sauntered in my mind.

It was time away from the clatter of life, away from the paltry things. Only one day in Sri Lanka, and then the flight back to Hong Kong. The Captain was recently appointed his new rank—in fact, this was his first flight unsupervised. It made for a very cheerful journey. “How difficult was the Command training?” I asked, anticipating the worst. “You have to follow only two rules,” he said smudging a smile. “1) Don't make any mistakes, and 2) Know everything.” I was not relieved.

It was the Captain's first trip to Sri Lanka. I have been operating there for quite some time. But it was through his eyes that I began to see everything as if for the first time. “Such a wonderful lake,” he said, describing his brisk walk in the morning, “I love the architecture,” during a taxi drive to nearby tourist shops, and “such flavorful food,” after a bite in an authentic curry restaurant. I had forgotten how jaded we become with familiarity.

I was asked to turn over. The dark hands led me, tacitly, in the right direction. There was a docile wind that emanated from outside the tent that shuffled the deciduous leaves on the ground. The bucolic scene was magnificent. Palm trees stood in perfect equipoise, tall and proud, yielding gracefully to the elements around them. There was a shroud of joyfulness in the air; the sunlight made affable everything in its reach.

Sri Lanka is a gateway to precious stones. One can find flawless semi-precious to precious gems of all types and colors here. It would be a gemologist's dream to visit. However, one of the most precious gems to come from Sri Lanka is not a stone, but a woman. Anne Ranasinghe is a poet who fled Germany just prior to the Second World War. She studied in England and became a journalist prior to espousing a professor at the Colombo University, and her permanent move to Sri Lanka.

The poetry of Anne Ranasinghe is soft, intimate, and personal. It will appeal to most people with a sensitive heart. She speaks of the “shared tapestry of our lives,” the “scent of oleander [from her] equatorial garden,” and “fireflies [that] flicker among the mango leaves”. She also talks of the “inner darkness,” the unrequited love of youth, and the oppressive, “long unlovely night.” Much of her prose is further concerned with the Holocaust, and what she describes as, “charred-wood-midnight-fear.” Her breath of experience and prose is, in fact, life-giving—the freshness similar to my flying companion—the Captain who, on account of his new position, has found a new way of seeing things.

The tenderness of Sri Lanka stayed with me as we pulled into the bay in Hong Kong. The Captain paused. “We made it!” “Can you believe it? All in one piece!”—he said it with an impish smile, and a sense of pride that filled the cockpit.

“Awareness of
The final mystery: that there is only now
This one and only time. An intermingling
Of images—transient
Like birds in flight” – Anne Ranasinghe

I collaborated with a big smile and a celebratory hand shake.
(But, secretly, I never had a doubt).

Neer Berchik, the Flying Yogi: I started flying airplanes after high school. It was my graduation gift actually. Since then I have been, more or less, consumed by it. If I was not flight instructing, or flying a date to dinner, traveling by air was a means of escape. It allowed me leave the world and see things from a distant perspective. It also just plain felt good to fly. I thereafter became a helicopter instructor and a sea plane pilot too. I remember flying 50 feet above the ocean with the doors off in the helicopter exchanging greetings with the surfers in the water. Those were the days. I enjoyed books by Richard Bach, a savvy pilot with a spiritual bent. I meditated in Zen monasteries and began university in San Francisco at the California Institute of Integral Studies. I ended up with a Master's Degree in East/West Psychology. I never stopped flying. I flew air traffic surveillance, worked with a cargo company (where I actually flew into work), and always instructed students. Then one passenger airline after another, I ended up with Cathay Pacific Airways in Hong Kong. I love my job flying the Queen of the Skies, the Boeing 747-400. I also enjoy yoga practice, and anything that is well and healing and good.