Tag Archives: Dan Windisch Poems

Beauty in the photographs details: Hollyhock Chair Boat

There is so much in this photograph that I love.

The place itself I love. It is the Hollyhock Retreat center on Cortes Island in British Columbia, a beautiful, remote, and Magical, Transformative place, especially in the summertime. I first went there in 1978 And attended a 13 week long Resident fellow program with a different workshop each week. I attended a dream workshop where I learned that I was Dan, Dan, The rainbow man, a healer and a teacher. And for the last 45 years, I’ve lived being a Healer and a teacher. I learned about Quan Yen (or Kuan Yin),The bodhisattva of compassion. I learned it from John Blofeld, that Very British China convert, Who wrote so beautifully about Quan Yen (or Kuan Yin), and also  translated the I Ching. John Blofeld so enjoyed his afternoon tea :). I learned about the I Ching, and Tarot cards. And I learned from the wind, the trees, low and high tides, I learned from the lapping of the water, BJ, Whiskey and orange juice, early morning sunshine, the wonderful gardens, and even more wonderful vegetarian meals. I learned by working with Bill Glackman, now a lifetime friend, doing handyman work around the then COld Mountain Institute.

But what do I love about this picture! I love the early morning light, with the side-light and long shadows. I love the empty chair and the empty boat, both waiting for us/me/you.

I can feel myself sitting in that chair, with my eyes closed, warm, with the sunshine on my face and arms in the cool morning, and ever so gently, I feel a slight breeze. With each breath, I breathe in the light, salty smells of the sea. I hear the gentle lapping of water on the beach. I hear the bird calls of morning,  welcoming the new day. That chair is a place to simply be, mindfully and appreciatively.

The empty boat, red and white and waiting, Is not about mindfulness. The empty boat is about adventure awaiting! Come,Let us row away to adventure! Morning is the time for both contemplation and beginning of adventures! I love that in this photograph.

I love the colors, the greens of the grass and the tree. I love the shades of blues in the sea, and in the mountains across the sea.  I love the bands of lighter color blue on the water.

I love how small I am in that early morning light, And how big that quiet sea is,  and how the shrouded mountains are at the top the photograph.

I love the lines of the small waves, lapping towards the shore.

I love the juxtaposition of the living Green tree, the stump, and the wooden chair. Three stages of existence?

I love the variations between the rocky shore, The tidal zone with it’s small rocks and mud , and the two big rocks In the nearby shallow water.

When I look at this picture, I feel gratitude, the hopes of a new morning, The beckoning of mindfulness and adventure, and the sheer beauty of it all: colors, bands of blue and green, and waves, sea, trees, shore, chair, boat, and distant mountains… and ME!

Dan Poem: A Rose arose from the Dank Dark Dirt

A Rose arose from the dank,Dark, Dirt
by Dan Windisch

A  red and yellow and shining white rose
from the

It faded
and Fell,
and became,

A rose
from the

Dan Poem: “When our stars twinkle out”

In my walk this morning as the stars twinkled out, I thought of Aaron and wrote this poem in memory of him.

When our stars twinkle out
(in memory of Aaron)
by Dan Windisch

When our stars
twinkle out
in the mornings,
(our mournings),
hard light.

they are still there.
Never gone.
Simply Waiting,
to be seen again,
in the next

Gleaming! Glittering! Bright!

And how can you find your twinkled out stars,
among all those billions of stars?

Find them near.

Their bright star,


next to yours.

Human: Multifaceted Diamonds

Human: Multifaceted Diamonds

Dan Windisch 1/29/00



each one …

unique and wondrous facets …

of an infinitely faceted …

gorgeous …

constantly changing …

ever evolving …

life diamond.


Each facet,

a unique human being/


dancing …

each living/creating/sharing/dying …

reflecting in their own special ways …

God’s light.


As counselors/teachers/friends and family

it is our task …

to brighten up  …

to cherish …

to lighten the pain… the dirt… the sorrow …

to bring out the potential …

to help each unique person …

shine/dance brighter …

in the loving light of God.


Esalen: If Buddha was sitting in the Hot Tub with you

If Buddha was sitting in the Hot Tub with you

“latest” version 032415
by Dan Windisch

If Buddha was  sitting
in the hot tub
with you.

Would you?
Could You?
Be still enough…
to Know?

And being there …
What would you learn,
from her?

And, If it was night,
and a billion stars were
and waves were crashing endlessly to the shore,
and the cool breeze caressed your face,
and chatter flowed all around.

Would you?
Could You?
Be still enough…
to Know?

And, just a thought …

Would it be?
Could it be?
WIll it be?
That Buddha is you?


earlier version
If Buddha was sitting in the Esalen Hot Tub with you

If Buddha was sitting
in the hot tub, with you.

Could you?
Would You?
Be still enough…
to Know?

And being there …
What would you learn
from her.

Dan Windisch 2015

original version:


Being Fat (Phat) in America

Being Fat (Phat) in Amerika

Dan Windisch 5/15/00 minor changes 01/19/15
Preface note: This poem was originally written 15 years ago, before I had gastric bypass surgery. The poem is still very true. Please, see beauty beyond a person’s weight. See the beauty of their soul.

Ph is a measure of corrosiveness …

of extremes ….
The more extreme the Ph, the more corrosive it is.
Phat, P-H-A-T is the corrosive, and permitted, hatred of Amerika.

This venom of our society is aimed acceptably, openly, at Phat people.
In our politically correct society you don’t make phun, p-h-u-n,
of people of color, ethnic origin, or sexual preference.
Yet we laugh at phat people.
Make fun of phat people.
Slur the will-power of phat people.

Look at me,
look at my stat,
I’m phat!

At 51, 5’10” hovering gently a round 360 pounds.
HUGE gut before me, large rounded phace, huge arms,
yet … padded warm hands, nice legs muscled from cherished walks, small behind.

I look down,
steaming,  warm,  happy,
after a hot shower,
and can’t see my …

Like my mother prophesied,
to that skinny little boy,
who ate those watermelon seeds,
I am huge.
Is that a watermelon in my tummy?
I think not,

You see You judge.
Phat — No will power, out of control, Un-sexy, addicted to food,
weak… but phunny,
lonely, unattractive, somewhat disgusting,
DEFINITELY not as strong, or in control as You, You the skinny.

Yet am I who you see? That phat, phunny, punny, phifty-one year old?
Or am I that skinny little boy in the picture,
with that phar away look,
lost in books of dreams,
that skinny  little boy who who gave up lunch money, went hungry,
to buy adventure books
at the Scholastic School book Sale?

Or am I that skinny teen-ager on the front porch in his rented prom tux?

Or am I that picture of a young, slightly overweight, naval officer
with the warm eyes,
who every morning at 5AM in Officer Candidate School
had to Run with the other phat boys?

Yew trees heal.  I wish you would be yew and allow me to be me.

Which me do you see? Which one do you judge?
You judge the one you now see…
I’ll let yew in on a secret though, that’s just a small part
of me.

And I’ll let yew in on another secret too.
Phat people I know,
those not destroyed by the venom of society,
love more deeply,
cherish more fully,
are more sensual,
are better lovers,
and cherish more deeply,
than their many, skinny, smug and mean persecutors,
whose skinny superiority is their main cherished reality.

I’ve been skinny and I’ve been phat, and I know that …
It is who I am,
and what I blossom out of who I am,
that matters.
Not how skinny, not how phat.

I am more beautiful now than ever before in my life! I know that.
Does yewr soul eyes see my beauty?
or do you see only the phat man in front of you?

Dan Windisch Poems: Do-Be-Do-Be-Do


Copyright by Dan Windisch 5/15/00 drdanw@comcast.net

Dr. Dan’s Theorum 1 of Mental Health…
is simple…
We do, then we be, then we do…

A dance of shining, then reflecting,
sun, moon,
kissing, being kissed,
laughter, echo of laughter cherished in a canyon,
givng a massage with creativity and joy,
receiving a massage with thankful awareness,
lover and beloved,

digging old brown dirt with rich smells and muscles bulging,
then sun on your skin… and lazy red colors flowing through closed eyes,
yin and yang.

Accomplishing, letting go.
Amerika a do-do society,
India a be-be society.
Balance buddy!

We know how to do…
goals, priorities,
datebooks, contacts, objectives, brainstorming,

teambuilding, incentives, rewards, salaries, hard-driving, competition, busy at all times,
take-no-prisioners, never be a loser, the one with the biggest toys wins….
at  the end …
or in the middle …
an aching emptiness.
Is that all there is Alfie?

We, as a So-sigh-a-tee,
simply don’t know…
how to be.

Here’s how I be,
when I be my best …
by living moment to moment …
between the busy-ness …  and the e-turn-all-ee,

Walking to a meeting,
i feel the air between my hand,
get lost in the moment,
slide great-fully, gratefully,
into its eternity… then slide back
I walk on.

The wind touches my face cool and gentle,
then moves on…
… moment cherished.

Muscles in legs contract, i feel them move,
the Power, the Organization,
axons fire,
muscles contract and release, a symphony of balance, electricity, contraction, expansion, and I, balanced above it all, marvel at the unconscious orgiastic orcheastic…
beauty of it all.

the awesome wonder of it flawlessly all,
overwhelms me …
then I move on.

At home i vacuum the rug and listen to the answering machine.
And the wonders begin…
The taste of a grapefruit, sweet, stronger than ever my most cherished memory of it,
overwhelms me.

The feel of water pounding through multiple nozzles onto my naked body
wakes me, thrills me, reminds me even more of how weak memories are,
how joyous the simple pleasure of water,
how strong the joys of the moment.

Soft, sweet smelling, and CLEAN sheets thrill me as I crawl into bed.
How great are the moments.

The walk in the woods outside my house.
How busy the ants are in their busy world as i watch, then walk bye.

Clouds shift and shape o-blow, oblivious of me,
leaves blown brown in the wind,
an old dead tree stands white stark against  new green leaves,
rabbits lay in the sun, then, nervous, flee flop away,
A hawk in gentle slow curves with sharp eyes waits for its next meal,
Frogs sing loud, love, croaking sounds in waters surrounding me.

I am part of it all. I be.

Do be do be do.