Alan Watts: A Personal Thread Through the Cosmic Tapestry

Most people know Alan Watts as the British-American philosopher who brought Eastern thought to the Western world, not by preaching, but by translating deep truths into poetic insight. Zen, Taoism, Vedanta, psychedelics, he wove them all into a language the modern mind could understand. But for me, the connection goes deeper than a YouTube clip or a favorite quote.

I went to high school with his granddaughter. After my dad’s divorce, he even ended up going on a date with Alan’s daughter. Small world? Cosmic design? Who knows.

I’ve visited the land up at Druid Heights, the hilltop community Watts helped shape, where conversations once echoed through the redwoods and ideas hung thick in the air. It’s still standing, still sacred. Below are some photos from that trip, so you can get a glimpse of the essence and feel of who he was and the community he helped create.

Alan always said that the illusion of separateness is the root of suffering. That we’re all part of the same dance, just waves playing on the ocean. And it’s wild to feel that truth not just intellectually, but personally, tangled in my own family’s story.

He wasn’t a guru. He drank, he laughed, he partied, but he never claimed to be above the mess. He understood and embraced it. More importantly, he helped others understand themselves as well.

There’s something grounding about knowing I’ve brushed close to that lineage, like a ripple of presence passed through. And maybe that’s the point. As Alan said, “You are an aperture through which the universe is looking at and exploring itself.” Feels about right.

The pictures below say more than I ever could. As the old saying goes, a picture’s worth a thousand words. So I’ll say little in the captions here, because the way nature has regrown through the buildings and wrapped itself around the space says so much on its own. The only thing I will say is this: when the last surviving member of the community passes, the community perishes with them.

So if this post stirs something in you, maybe go on an adventure, ethically. Park up top and walk down. And if you don’t know where “up top” is, park even farther up than that, outside of the community. Don’t drive in. You’ll blow it.

And with that being said, the second rule, reiterating the first, be respectful and be quiet. For all we know, the person holding space there is on their last heartbeat, in deep meditation. They don’t need some loudmouth ketamine kid walking through and blowing the whole scene, and the space they’re holding for the few who come in light, love, and quietly.

You’re like, why is he talking about being quiet? Well, they were playing the handpan, and that was when I sucked at playing the handpan, and it was exactly what brought the people out. They were like, “All right, you’re a cool kid,” or, “You’re just scary-looking and we’ll leave you alone.” But I advise, no instruments.

Aho. Namaste. And peace.