Do what you must, but never put anyone out of your heart.

The first draft of this came to me during a workshop I facilitated, “Heartfelt Words: Lamps in the Dark.”  I was outraged about yet another insane action by the president.  I’d no thought to write a letter to him or little Donny.  I was surprised by where this writing exercise went: it took me to deep empathy for a child.  Here goes:

Dear Mr. Trump,
I’m writing letters to people who could use heartfelt words.  Lamps in the dark, if you will.  Don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t choose you when I sat down to write.  I was gazing quietly at my notebook.  Suddenly my pen scribbled your name on the virgin paper.  Surprise!  That happens when the mind can wander freely, when thoughts aren’t lined up like combat soldiers ready to fire off the next missive.

I don’t need to be a psychic to know you’re a troubled, hurting man, Mr. Trump, haunted by scars.  I know, too, the commercial face you employ, like a death mask, won’t budge on this point.  Denials aside, your blustery behavior betrays you.  I’d wager a bet that contact with emotional pain is too much for you to bear.  The result?  Joylessness, hardness, a loss of feeling, such as empathy, which cannot take root in a hostile environment.

Please, stay with me here.  Strange as it seems, I want to offer warm words to the boy you once were, exiled little Donny, whose bereft ghost wanders the chambers of your heart.  Here is my letter to him:

Dear Donny,
What a fine boy you are!  I know you’re hungry for a look from your daddy that says, “You are more precious to me than all the tea in China, son.”  And you wish your mommy would read “Charlotte’s Web” to you at bedtime, whisper, “I love you, darling,” then kiss your head softly as you fall asleep.  You adore your daddy.  All you really want is the happy feeling of your small hand held in his.

I’m sorry you’re so alone.  It’s scary how Big Donny huffs and puffs and blows up.  He badly wants people to like him.  Having money and even being president doesn’t make him happy.  He marches around in that big house and never sees you, even though you’re within him at every moment.

But I see you, Donny.  You want is to play hide-and-seek with pals, snuggle with your mommy, throw the ball with your daddy, eat popcorn and watch “Lassie.”  What a smart boy you are!  I see you, Donny, and I love you.     

Your new friend, Krayna    🙂

It’s tragic Mr. Trump, dangerously so for the whole planet, that you’ll go to the grave never acknowledging vulnerable Donny.  I’m sure this makes you squirmy, but before you run off, consider this:  No amount of bravado, popularity or empire building replaces the compassionate warmth of a tribe who loves you, guides you, and teaches you to steady yourself in this spinning world.  I so wish you knew the radiance of such love.  Now that would be newsworthy!

Yours truly,
Krayna Castelbaum

For reflection: 
To whom would you write a letter or poem with heartfelt words?  You can write to humans, as well as members of other species, the earth, a part of yourself.   Let your imagination guide you.  Consider sharing what you wrote with someone else.