My Ten Minutes with Donald J. Trump

Entering the Oval Office alone, he notices me sitting in the polished mahogany chair at the head of the two couches behind The Presidential Rug.

“What are you doing in my chair?” he demands while puffing his chest and pushing his heavyset body past me toward to chair behind the desk.

His go to method of communication is intimidation, but I will not be intimidated.

“Donald, please sit down next to me on the couch, we need to talk.” I reply in a neutral tone.

“I’ve got work to do, GET OUT OF HERE! You write mean things about me. I don’t want to talk to you.” He retorts, standing his full frame over me to scare me with physical presence and size.

His presence is an opportunity.

I rise and turn, placing my right hand on his heart and my left around his shoulder.

“I love you Donald. America loves you. The World Loves You. Please sit down and talk.”

“How can you love me when you are against me?” he asks as his body slowly makes its way toward the couch.

Still holding my arm around his shoulder, I reply “That is what true love is, the willingness to say to someone ‘You’re hurting yourself and others.’ Without honesty, the rest is just brownnosing.”

“So, all of my staff is just brownnosing me?” He inquires, sincerely contemplating the question as his body settles down into the couch.

“I can’t say that, Donald, but I can ask, ‘Where does it hurt?’”

He looks at me, surprised by the question.

“I don’t have time for this.” He shuts down, attempting to stand.

My arm still on his shoulder, I ask “Donald, what are you running from?”

His big eyes look up at me from below, a glistening tear appearing from inside the right, then the left.

“I just want to be loved,” he mumbles, wiping away the tears.

“You don’t need to wipe them away. Let them flow. You are loved.”

“No, that’s not it. The crowds, the house (as he waves around us), the sycophants all around. They don’t love me.”

“No, they don’t. They love your character.”

“Then who loves me?”

“Do you love yourself Donald?” I ask.

“OF Course I Do!” he retorts before thinking a moment. “It’s too much! The briefings, the attacks by the media, the protests, the demands for decisions. I don’t want to be the character anymore.”

“The character is not the one who’s loved. You, the real you, that is who is loved. Is that the one Ivanka talks to?”

“Yes, she is the only one who knows me.”

“Yes, and she loves the real you, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, but no one else sees me.”

“No, they see your character, don’t they?”

“Yes, at all the events, on TV, in the Press, even with the Steves and Melania. It’s always the actor playing the part.”

“What are you hiding?”

“I’m really a nice guy!”

“What are you running from?”

“They were not there for me?”


“My mom. She wasn’t there for me. She didn’t give me the love I needed.”

“Where was your dad?”

“He wasn’t there, ever. I never measured up. No matter what I did, I could not make him love me. He left me millions, but never a hug, an ‘atta boy’, or even a hint of approval.

“Is that what this is about, love from your mom and approval from your dad?”

“Whether I was nice, or mean, I never got approval. I only received support when I was ruthless.”



“I see, so the money flowed when the character showed.”


“So now the character dominates, but that’s not who you are inside?”

“That’s right. If only all these people knew me. All the hate. All the bad press. All the attacks about decisions I make when I’m scared. I don’t want this job. I just want to campaign with the adoring crowds.”

“But they love the character.”

“At least it’s something.”

“No, Donald, it’s just sugar. Adoring crowds will turn on you the first minute you go sour. Yet, we all love you. Not as the character, but as the real person.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are not anti-Semitic are you?”

“Of course not!”

“But your character, he kinda is, right?”

“He needs the support of some.”

“This is what I’m talking about Donald. Be the true you. You don’t want to be a bully do you?”

“No, I hate it!”

“But it pays in terms of getting what you think you want, right?”

“Yes, but it always goes away again.”

“Exactly, because it’s sugar. It’s so sweet, but it causes cancer. The real you; the loved you; you’re a good person underneath. Show that person. The crowds will be of a different sort, not high on the sugar you’re offering and consuming, but based on the true sense of love for another person who cares enough to be real with them.”

“I’m scared. What if they don’t like it.”

“The ones who fawn over you now won’t. But the rest of humanity, the ones who really love you, they will. It’s not about the crowds though, is it? What matters is how you feel inside every moment of every day. Are you being true to yourself?”

“I can’t be.”

“Know that you can. Have the confidence to be your true self. You will be loved for it, and not just by your daughter who sees you beyond the shell, but by all of humanity who wants you to shatter that shell and set yourself free.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. It’s scary to be real.”

I stand up to leave.

He reaches out his hand, grasping mine with sweaty palms.

“I’ll do it.”

“I know you will Donald. I love you.” I offer, as I raise him up with my hand so he’s standing before me.

I embrace him tight. His head rests on my shoulder for a moment.

Steve Bannon walks in from the side door of the Chief if Staff’s office.

Donald straightens up. In character he shouts “No get outta here!”

“The world loves the real Donald” I say, as I walk out of the Oval office without looking back.









This piece was inspired by a podcast from Tara Brach. So much suffering in the world is caused by children not receiving the nurturing they need. How many of the world’s wars, famines, and plights can be cured with loving parents, or loving reparenting? I don’t know, but a good place to start in from those who are in the positions to make some of the most damaging decisions.


Spiritual Reparenting (2016-12-07)
Tara Brach
Duration: 52:40
Published: Sat, 10 Dec 2016 01:52:43 +0000

<p>Spiritual Reparenting (2016-12-07) - When we are not sufficiently nurtured in childhood, we are inclined toward anxiety, depression, addiction and other forms of suffering. In a deep way, we do not...

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Another way to consider this is the fable of Androcles and the Lion. A good way to learn about this can be done here: