More than two decades ago, my most active spiritual teacher and closest friend, whom I lovingly call Master Roshi, introduced me to the works of Alan Watts. At the time, I was at a crossroads—a place where my relationship with faith felt strained, weighed down by the inherited dogmas that no longer aligned with my evolving sense of self. There was a yearning inside me, an ache for something freer and more expansive. I wasn’t looking to abandon faith altogether but to reimagine it, to find a way of connecting with what I call God that felt authentic, unburdened by the rigid structures I’d outgrown.
Enter Alan Watts—a voice that felt both familiar and revolutionary, offering not just answers but a way of rethinking the questions themselves. From the moment I first encountered Watts’ writings and lectures, I was struck by his gift for weaving together strands of Eastern philosophy—particularly Zen Buddhism and Taoism—with a Western sensibility that felt grounded yet profoundly curious. His words often felt less like doctrine and more like an invitation to play, to dance with the complexities of existence.
For someone like me, who had spent so much time trying to “figure it all out,” his philosophy was liberating. Watts encouraged me to let go—not just of dogmatic beliefs, but also of the illusion of control. He taught me that spirituality wasn’t about striving toward some unattainable perfection or ascending a metaphorical ladder to the divine. It was about learning to be present, to move with the currents of life rather than fight against them.
Muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone. Alan Watts
What continues to resonate most deeply with me is Watts’ ability to articulate the ineffable—the things we feel but cannot quite put into words. Whether he was speaking about the interconnectedness of all things, the nature of perception, or the elusive beauty of the present moment, his insights felt like a bridge between my heart and intellect. He didn’t dismantle my faith; he expanded it.
Through his teachings, I began to see that God is not something far away, an entity to be feared or worshipped from a distance. Instead, the divine is something immanent, interwoven with existence itself and, by extension, with who we are.
You don’t look out there for God, something in the sky. You look in you. Alan Watts
One of Watts’ ideas that left an indelible mark on me was his analogy of the universe as a cosmic game of hide-and-seek. In this playful vision, God isn’t a stern overseer or a distant judge but a creative force, joyfully hiding within all the forms of existence and rediscovering itself through us.
This idea turned my understanding of the divine on its head. What had once been tinged with fear—of judgment, of not getting it “right”—was transformed into a sense of awe. Faith, for me, became less about clinging to certainty and more about cultivating an open curiosity.
Man suffers only because he takes seriously what the gods made for fun. Alan Watts
As the years have gone by, I’ve noticed that Watts’ teachings have continued to shape my understanding of spirituality in quiet but profound ways. He reminded me that the path doesn’t have to be solemn or heavy. It can be lighthearted, even playful.
Spirituality, he suggested, is not a solemn pilgrimage to answers but a joyful engagement with the questions. This has given me permission to explore, to embrace the paradoxes of existence, and to see the world—and myself—as part of a vast, ever-unfolding mystery.
His words—“You are the universe experiencing itself”—are ones I return to often. They remind me of the profound interconnectedness of all things, the sacred dance of life in which we all play a part. This dance is at once playful and profound, fleeting and eternal, individual and collective.
Spirituality, he suggested, is not a solemn pilgrimage to answers but a joyful engagement with the questions. Alan Watts
Through Watts, I’ve come to understand that spirituality is not about certainty or absolutes but about trust—trust in the process, in the unfolding, in the beauty of not knowing.
Looking back, I can see how much of my journey has been shaped by this gentle yet profound philosophy. Watts didn’t give me a roadmap or a doctrine; he gave me the tools to approach faith as an adventure rather than an obligation. And in doing so, he helped me uncover a sense of freedom—freedom to question, to explore, to celebrate the wonder of existence without needing to pin it down or define it.
For anyone who has ever found themselves questioning their path or yearning for a connection that feels more alive, I can’t recommend Alan Watts enough. His words are not a prescription or a final answer but an open door—a starting point for a richer, freer way of being.
Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth. Alan Watts
The Twin Tree Project 