Alan Watts never pitched nonduality as a highfalutin abstraction or mere mindfulness trick. Instead, it bubbles up as a playful realization that the self and the universe are not two separate things clashing at the border. Where many contemporary writers frame nonduality as a step-by-step path—often peppered with detailed practices, checklists or self-help jargon—Watts spun it into an airy dance: life isn’t about getting somewhere, but seeing that “somewhere” was never apart from “here.”

A handful of modern authors tend to strip out the philosophical heft, presenting nonduality as strictly a mental tool to reduce stress. Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now, for instance, spotlights present-moment awareness, almost as if enlightenment were a remedy for outdated thinking. Others, like Adyashanti or Rupert Spira, dive deep into direct pointing, zooming in on singular moments of “I Am.” Watts, by contrast, held both East and West in one hand—melding Taoist spontaneity, Hindu Vedanta’s “all is one,” and psychedelic-era freedom—while refusing to beat around the bush with overly clinical breakdowns.

Rather than prescribing spiritual boot camp, his prose leaps with life-affirming humor: the cosmos is a theatrical play and the ego a character in costume. There’s an unmistakable Jefferson Airplane era vibe—reminiscent of ’60s counterculture—yet it still resonates in today’s TikTok meditation boom. His nonduality isn’t obtained; it’s recognized by dropping the notion that there ever was a solid “you” to begin with.

This contrasts sharply with writers who frame awakening as a linear climb toward better mental health or moral improvement. Watts flipped that script: no hierarchy, no ladder. Everything is already whole, hiccups and all. That freshness—his knack for turning lofty metaphysics into neighborhood-friendly chatter—keeps his take on nonduality a breath of fresh air, even in a world buzzing with apps promising instant enlightenment.