It will probably be best to start at the beginning, the day I came crashing into this physical reality we call ‘life’, mine began June 5th 1973. I have no memory of this although I am sure it was traumatic and surely spiritual in some profound way. I was ME with a vessel I would call my body and a brain and physical characteristics that would distinguish me from the next human being. I began quite attached to me, as soon as I was aware I was me. I had a name, Amy. Hmmmm. Its okay I would have preferred something with a little antiquity to it, like Elspeth, or Cleopatra. We can’t all be that distinct I suppose. My father was certain I was destined for greatness, possibly the first female president. I looked as these two struggling individuals, both complete with their own problems and major personality flaws and loved them anyway. Sometimes I wonder if we have anything to do with picking our parents. Perhaps we choose the ones we think we learn the most from. Or maybe God decides…. Yes the big man. Who is God anyway? What does God mean to you? Oh you can say is name in many different languages around the world, but funnily enough he means something a little different to everyone. Everyone has their personal vision or thought about God, even the ones who don’t believe in anything at all.