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Erick Godsey

Every week, I bring the best of what I've gathered. Enjoy the feast.

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Feasting Friday

I've really fallen in love with notion recently, so this week's newsletter is here (with pictures and videos). Song I'm Listening on Repeat: Unapologetically, I can't stop playing Big Dawgs Art I've Enjoyed: Alex Hormozi x Christopher Williamson As someone with psychological training and who geeked out on Behaviorism, I think Hormozi is in the top .01% of people alive who understand the profound wisdom in the psychological paradigm that dominated psychology for half a century. What he calls...

Idk how this happened but we’re gunna talk about prophets and prophecy. To set the stage, lets check in with the Jungians. Erich Neumann, jungian psychoanalyst and someone Jung openly admitted explained the unconscious more clearly than Jung himself ever did, describes three levels of development humans grow through. Neumann called these stages: The Mother Stage The Father Stage The Individuation Stage Because of reasons I’ll share another time, I’ll be calling them: Lv. 1: The Realm of the...

I've changed my mind (Caitlyn gets the credit). I, Erick Godsey, the eternal skeptic amongst my friends, believes we're in a spiritual war. This is a very big deal for me. To understand why, first we gotta talk about conspiracy theories. Everyone who knows me knows that I will argue with you about conspiracies. It's not that I don't believe in conspiracies. I do. People conspire. What I argue against is the cosmology people implicitly smuggle into the conversation. There are two points I try...

Last year, I heard Peia live. An Irish poet, between songs, she'd tell stories about Ireland. As she'd explain how she found a song or what the meaning was behind a certain word, she couldn't avoid consistently mentioning how hard her research had been because almost no records exist. Because the romans burned the books. Because the romans killed the elders. Because the romans outlawed their religion. It slowly dawned on me that the indigenous people we now refer to as Celtic/Irish were...

I realized last year that I write this newsletter for 3 people. The first is my 20 year old self. The one that lost his mind. The one that, in that final sense, almost quit. The second and third are my yet-to-born children. For whatever reason, I imagine a boy and a girl, many years in the future, reading these newsletters as a way to understand their father. This audience of three keeps me more than honest. They keep me earnest and audacious. Earnest because I'd rather die than be found...

I'm having a hard comprehending whats happening. This past week I opened the Dharma Artist Collective and already over 100 artists have joined and I find myself softly crying at some point everyday. I write to learn what I think. Something big is happening and I'm going to use this newsletter to figure it out. Part 1 - Insanity I first found the word Dharma in the Bhagavad Gita circa 2010. In the midst of my college psychosis, the result of too frequent and too intense psychedelic use, the...

If, as we die, we replay the 'highlight reel' of our lives, yesterday will make mine. On June 20th, 2024, I opened the first Dharma Artist Collective. On the last day of my first darkness retreat I asked whatever it is that listens when our hearts open, "What ought I give my life to?" I needed help. At that point, I had been wrestling with Existential Risk Theory for about 6 months. It killed my dreams. It took me awhile to realize it, but exposing myself to ERT killed my dreams of being an...

One of my first archetypical visions came while I was walking in a park in 2010. It was a muggy summer day in Central Texas. Storm clouds filled the sky as my body metabolized some mushrooms. I saw a vast beach. We were all there. And we were all building sandcastles. That was the game. Build your castle, prove you deserve to exist. Higher, faster, please, fuck, help us not notice the cavity in our chest. We were all there, 8 billion brothers and sisters. All children of an entropic universe...

Man, my eyes water as I begin to type. Why? I awake every morning buzzing somewhere between two poles: My life drips with beauty I can barely contain my gratitude for. We're living in the blast radius of a digital Fukushima and we are all severely mentally injured. Tears gently run down my face as I write that. My life is more beautiful than I can stand, and our current moment is more precarious than I can comprehend. Three weeks ago I went to the sacred valley in Peru and sat with aya for a...

As I sat upon one of those flying steel miracles we take for granted, I watched a documentary on Jung I hadn't seen before. Called A Matter of Heart, it reminded me why I love Jung. There were a lot of photos and videos woven throughout the doc that had me feeling like I was looking at old family photos, enjoying the family that came before me. But the feeling of communing with seldom visited family abruptly turned to goosebump-raising unease. In the last section of this more than 90 minute...