The email invitation to go to Egypt for the solar eclipse in August 1999 hit me in the belly like a lightning bolt. It was one of those rare times in my life when I just knew I had to drop everything and, come hell or high water, follow that thread that pulled me forward from the future. I had to trust that I would be supported to go there.
He is sitting with his arms crossed looking off into the distance. His cream colored long coat and shawl drawn up tight against his shoulders and neck. It must be cold. His gaze is soft yet strong. His brow furrowed with slight wrinkles. He is balding by then, his hair thinning yet still long in curls against his chest. I see him in profile only, the photograph of him taken outdoors in golden light, a clump of autumn foliage against him. Atop his mountain. Silent. Silent for decades. And yet, what he did with that silence is a masterclass in speaking volumes about creating peace in the world.