Not the you that you think you were, are, or will be, but the One and Only You; The Creator and The Created.
There is the you that would call this moment-world boring, lovely, or tragic, just as this you seems to have a given name.
But this You who really is, is not only content, but quite amazed, that this world is being created.
And that Amazement is You.
Nameless and faceless You are the space which gives rise to everything that gets named.
You are the emptiness, the capacity that makes room for the world.
Be, and be overwhelmed with the wonder of it all.
Because You are all of it–the boring, the lovely, and the tragic.
When you name its parts–me, you, awful, wonderful–you separate them out, as if you could.
Only pretending, only always.
And so the drama goes. You who is Shakespeare writes the play.
You are the stage and the audience, the laughter and the tears.
You who is the Father/Mother does not play favorites.
Because You, this house of many mansions, holds it all, embraces everything, everyone, every moment-world.
Behold: Nothing is left out.