I just found this channel so I’ll duplicate my reply here:

I was 22 the first time I went to France. It was the summer of 1963 (my birthday is in December) Reading about Americans in Paris and my interest in art and literature pushed me in that direction. I didn’t think too hard about it, I just jumped at it. I spoke no French at the time, although I’m fluent now. I should be, after an aggregate forty years there. My America wife and I had a B&B in the east of France for twenty years. We’d still be there but for a financial miscalculation, but having said that, we like Mexico.

Your question about peace has a nuanced and relative answer. Ultimate peace still escapes me, but I do admit to living in a state of relative peace as I continue to live, learn and love because I have settled some of my more fraught insecurities and uncertainties. Personal ambition has given way to a sense of service. It has been a very instructive journey.

Thanks for your interest.