Last night, I took an 8-hour psilocybin journey. No breaks. No soft landings. Just eight straight hours of visions, tears, laughter, and deep ancestral healing. And at the center of it all stood Baphomet.
What I Actually Saw
Let me be precise, because this matters.
For most of the trip, I saw Baphomet exactly as she is classically drawn: goat-headed, androgynous, winged, one arm up, one arm down. The famous image from Eliphas Lévi (1856). Black, white, and red pulsed through her like breath.
But then something shifted.
I stopped seeing her. I started being her.
She Became Me
As the merge happened, the goat-head melted away and I saw myself—my own face, my melanated skin, my long dreadlocks. I was standing at a crossroads, one hand raised to the sky, one pointing to the earth. The torch between my horns became a flame inside my chest.
I was not worshipping Baphomet.
I was not being possessed by a demon.
I was remembering my own duality.
The Colors: Black, White, Red
These three colors held me for eight hours:
· Black – my shadow self, the parts I used to hide
· White – my clarity, my ancestors' wisdom, my crown
· Red – my bloodline, my rage, my life force
In Hoodoo, we use these colors on candles. Last night, I became the candle.
She Is Not a Demon – Never Was
The lie that Baphomet is “Satanic” comes from fear-based propaganda, not history. Lévi created her as a symbol of balance: masculine/feminine, above/below, mercy/severity. The Church twisted her into evil to control what they couldn't understand.
But I don't answer to the Church. I answer to my ancestors, my roots, and my own direct vision.
And last night, Baphomet showed me that the divine is not afraid of the dark. Neither am I.
Papa Legba – The Door Opener
I work closely with Papa Legba. He opens gates. He holds keys. And I felt him laughing softly in the background of my trip, like he had unlocked a door just to see what I would do.
Did Baphomet come through Legba?
Possibly. The crossroads is a place where anything can step through. But here's what I know: Legba didn't warn me away. He watched. He approved. And when I woke up, my altar candle to him was burned down to nothing—faster than ever before.
8 Hours of Healing – No Regrets
I healed childhood spiritual shame.
I healed the lie that my darkness makes me evil.
I healed the split between my Gemini light and my Gemini shadow.
I am a Gemini woman. I contain multitudes. And now I contain her too—not as an entity I follow, but as an energy I wear.
My locs have always been my crown. Now they're also her horns.
To My Fellow Rootworkers
If you have a "scary" vision, don't run. Sit with it. Test it. Ask your ancestors. And ask yourself: Is this here to harm me, or to heal me?
Baphomet healed me.
She didn't make me less Hoodoo.
She made me more me.
Crossroads keep you. Shadows hold you. And the dark feminine loves you fierce.
Melanated. Loced. Gemini. Rootworker.
I saw the goat. I am the throne.
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