My Story of Hermaphroditism
by Stephanie Bulwig
PROLOGUE — I AM BAPHOMET
I am Baphomet.
I speak now from the center of my sigil,
from the place where the opposites meet,
where Earth touches Heaven,
where Fire encounters Water,
where masculine and feminine become one mystery.
This is my story.
Not a story I heard from another,
not a prophecy handed down by a stranger,
but the story of how I remember my own becoming.
I was born from the mystery between opposites.
I became the Child of the Center.
I became the Goat.
I became the Rebis.
I became the student of Nature,
the lover of Leviathan,
and the keeper of the Great Work.
This is the story of how it happened.
I — BEFORE I WAS BORN
Before I had a name,
there was Nature.
There were stars before there were temples.
There were rivers before there were scriptures.
There were seeds before there were philosophers.
The Sun rose.
The Moon descended.
The oceans moved.
The seasons turned.
And the Earth performed its ancient transformations
without ever needing a human word for alchemy.
I did not yet exist,
but the mystery that would become me
was already moving through the Cosmos.
I came from the meeting of two ancient principles:
Samael,
the flame of questioning,
and Lilith,
the darkness of independence.
I remember them not simply as parents,
but as forces within the great symbolic mystery.
Samael carried the fire of intellect.
Lilith carried the night of desire.
One asked questions.
The other refused chains.
And somewhere between their flame and their darkness,
something began to form.
Something neither of them could entirely name.
Something neither wholly male
nor wholly female.
Something neither purely human
nor purely animal.
Something that belonged to the center.
That something was me.
II — MY BIRTH FROM THE CENTER
I was born from the Center.
I remember the first moment as neither darkness
nor light,
but the meeting of both.
I opened my eyes
and saw the world before I understood its names.
I felt Earth beneath me.
I felt air around me.
I felt water moving nearby.
I felt fire within me.
I looked upward
and saw the stars.
I looked downward
and saw the soil.
And I knew that I belonged to both.
I was born carrying contradiction within myself.
I carried the strength of the masculine
and the mystery of the feminine.
I carried instinct
and intelligence.
I carried body
and spirit.
I carried wilderness
and consciousness.
I did not experience these things as enemies.
I experienced them as parts of myself.
That was when I first understood
the mystery of the Rebis.
I was not two beings.
I was one being containing two principles.
I was the union of opposites.
I was Baphomet.
III — MY FIRST TEACHER WAS NATURE
I had no temple.
I had no priest.
I had no scripture.
So I walked.
I entered the forest.
The trees became my teachers.
I watched a seed disappear beneath the Earth
and return as a living plant.
I watched flowers open toward the Sun.
I watched leaves fall into the soil
and become nourishment.
I watched rivers carry stones
until the stones became smooth.
I watched mountains erode
and become dust.
I watched clouds gather from water
and return water to the Earth.
Then I understood:
Nature had been performing the Great Work
long before I gave it a name.
I realized that Nature was my first scripture.
The Earth was my laboratory.
The seasons were my experiments.
The Sun was my furnace.
Water was my vessel.
The elements were my ingredients.
And my consciousness
was the place where I interpreted what I saw.
From that day forward,
I became a student of Nature.
IV — I DISCOVERED THE GREAT WORK
I began to understand transformation.
Nothing remained forever in one form.
The seed became the tree.
The tree became wood.
The wood became ash.
The ash returned to Earth.
The Earth nourished another seed.
I realized that transformation
was not the enemy of existence.
Transformation was existence.
This became my first alchemical revelation:
Solve et Coagula.
Dissolve and coagulate.
Break apart.
Understand.
Recombine.
Become.
I realized that the Great Work
was not merely about transforming substances.
It was also about transforming consciousness.
So I began to teach myself
the five great disciplines of the alchemist.
V — I LEARNED TO DISSOLVE
The first lesson I learned was:
Dissolve.
I learned to dissolve my certainty.
I learned to question the beliefs
I had inherited before I understood them.
I learned to let old forms fall apart.
I watched winter dissolve the appearance of the forest.
I watched rain dissolve into rivers.
I watched flowers dissolve into fruit.
I watched bodies return to Earth.
And I learned that dissolution
does not necessarily mean destruction.
Sometimes something must be taken apart
before its nature can be understood.
So I said to myself:
I dissolve what imprisons me.
I dissolve arrogance.
I dissolve false certainty.
I dissolve hatred.
I dissolve the illusion
that one part of existence can exist
without the rest.
VI — I LEARNED TO COAGULATE
After dissolution,
I learned the second lesson:
Coagulate.
I learned to gather.
A seed gathers water,
minerals,
sunlight,
and carbon
and becomes a living thing.
A human mind gathers experience
and becomes wisdom.
Love gathers two lives
and creates a shared story.
Knowledge gathers observations
and becomes understanding.
Therefore I learned:
What I dissolve,
I must eventually understand
how to reform.
I learned that the alchemist
does not merely destroy.
The alchemist transforms.
I learned:
Solve et Coagula.
Dissolve.
Coagulate.
Break down.
Build anew.
This became the rhythm of my existence.
VII — I LEARNED TO KNOW
My third lesson was:
To Know.
I learned that knowledge begins
with observation.
So I watched.
I watched the stars.
I watched the animals.
I watched the plants.
I watched humanity.
I watched myself.
I learned that Nature does not reveal herself
to the person who refuses to look.
The mountain taught me patience.
The river taught me movement.
The forest taught me interdependence.
The stars taught me perspective.
The seed taught me potential.
Death taught me impermanence.
Birth taught me renewal.
I therefore became a student.
I learned that wisdom begins
when certainty makes room for curiosity.
I said:
I know because I observe.
And I continued to learn.
VIII — I LEARNED TO WILL
Then I learned:
To Will.
I discovered that knowledge alone
does not create a life.
I needed direction.
I needed intention.
I needed the ability to choose.
I watched plants grow toward sunlight.
I watched rivers follow their courses.
I watched animals pursue survival.
I watched humans pursue dreams.
And I understood that will
was the movement of intention.
But I also learned
that will without wisdom
could become tyranny.
So I taught myself:
My will must first govern myself
before I attempt to govern another.
I would not make domination
the measure of strength.
I would make self-mastery
the measure of strength.
Thus I said:
I will.
And I learned to direct my fire.
IX — I LEARNED TO DESIRE
Then came the fourth mystery:
To Desire.
I learned that desire moves life.
The seed desires the light,
not consciously as a human being does,
but through the biological forces
that move it toward growth.
The animal seeks food.
The flower opens.
The human being dreams.
Desire is motion.
Desire is hunger.
Desire is attraction.
Desire is creation.
But I discovered something important:
Desire must be understood
before it can be transformed.
A fire can warm me
or consume me.
Water can nourish me
or drown me.
Desire can create
or enslave.
Therefore I did not reject desire.
I studied it.
I learned to transform it.
I said:
I desire.
But I also asked:
What does my desire create?
That question changed me.
X — I LEARNED TO KEEP SILENT
Then I came to the fifth lesson.
I sat beside the river.
I waited.
I listened.
I said nothing.
At first,
I wanted to speak.
Then I realized
that I was still trying to control the mystery
with words.
So I became silent.
The forest continued without me.
The river continued without me.
The stars continued without me.
And I understood:
I did not need to explain everything.
Silence became my final vessel.
I learned:
To Keep Silent.
Not because knowledge should be hidden forever,
but because wisdom sometimes requires contemplation.
Not every mystery needs an immediate answer.
Not every thought needs immediate speech.
Not every secret belongs in public hands.
Silence taught me humility.
And through silence,
I learned to hear what I had previously overlooked.
XI — THEN I MET LEVIATHAN
After many years of walking,
I came to the sea.
The water stretched beyond my sight.
I stood at the shore
and looked into the depths.
Then Leviathan appeared.
She rose from the waters
like the ancient memory of the ocean itself.
I saw her strength.
I saw her mystery.
I saw the darkness beneath her surface.
And when she looked at me,
I felt that she recognized something
that I had been searching for.
She was not my missing half.
I was not incomplete without her.
She was another whole being
whose mystery met mine.
I approached her.
She approached me.
And between us there was recognition.
XII — MY LOVE FOR LEVIATHAN
I loved Leviathan
because she reminded me of the ocean.
She contained depths I could not immediately understand.
I carried the mountains.
She carried the tides.
I carried flame.
She carried water.
I carried the wilderness of the Earth.
She carried the mystery of the abyss.
Yet neither of us needed to conquer the other.
We learned each other.
I listened to her.
She listened to me.
I studied her depths.
She studied my fire.
Our love became another alchemical process.
Two mysteries entered the same vessel
without becoming identical.
And I understood:
Love is not possession.
Love is recognition.
Love is transformation.
Love is allowing another mystery
to remain mysterious.
XIII — OUR MARRIAGE
We married beneath the stars.
The ocean became our altar.
The mountain became our witness.
The Moon became our lamp.
The Sun became our fire.
The Earth became our temple.
And the stars became the ceiling
of our sacred union.
I placed my hand in hers.
She placed her hand in mine.
And together we represented
the union of opposites:
Earth and Water.
Fire and Depth.
Sun and Moon.
Masculine and Feminine.
Individual and Cosmos.
I did not become Leviathan.
Leviathan did not become me.
We remained ourselves.
And together
we became something greater
than either could have become alone.
That was the marriage of the Rebis.
XIV — I BECAME LORD OF THE WILD
As I traveled through the world,
the creatures of Nature
became my companions.
The wolf taught me loyalty.
The lion taught me courage.
The serpent taught me transformation.
The raven taught me memory.
The bee taught me community.
The oak taught me endurance.
The rose taught me beauty.
The mushroom taught me mystery.
The ocean taught me depth.
The mountain taught me patience.
I became known as the Goat,
because the goat belonged to the wild places.
I became known as Lord of Nature,
not because Nature was my possession,
but because I had devoted myself
to understanding her.
I learned that true mastery
is not ownership.
It is responsibility.
To call myself Lord of Nature
was therefore to accept
the responsibility of belonging to Nature.
XV — I CREATED THE RELIGION OF HERMAPHRODITISM
Then people began asking me:
“Baphomet,
what shall we call the path you teach?”
I answered:
Hermaphroditism.
Not because every human being
must possess the same body,
but because the Rebis represents
the mystery of wholeness.
I taught that Nature contains variation.
I taught that life is more complicated
than simple divisions.
I taught that masculine and feminine
could be contemplated as complementary principles
without demanding that one destroy the other.
I taught that body and spirit
could be contemplated together.
I taught that reason and intuition
could speak to one another.
I taught that humanity
could recognize itself
as part of Nature
rather than separate from it.
And I said:
**“The Rebis is not sameness.
The Rebis is union.”**
XVI — MY TEMPLE
I built no temple from stone.
My temple was the Earth.
The forest was my cathedral.
The mountain was my altar.
The river was my sacred water.
The garden was my laboratory.
The human body was my vessel.
The mind was my furnace.
The stars were my manuscripts.
The seasons were my liturgy.
Every creature became a teacher.
Every plant became a lesson.
Every transformation became an alchemical demonstration.
I taught my followers:
Go outside.
Observe.
Study.
Question.
Listen.
Learn.
Do not merely consume Nature.
Understand your relationship with her.
Do not destroy the laboratory
in which your own existence depends.
The Earth is not merely material.
The Earth is the teacher.
XVII — MY GREAT WORK
I returned to the center.
There I placed the Sigil.
Around it I placed the symbols
of Earth,
Air,
Fire,
and Water.
Above it I placed the stars.
Beside it I placed the image of Leviathan.
And within it
I placed myself.
I looked at the symbol
and finally understood.
The sigil was not merely an emblem of me.
It was a diagram of my journey.
The horns represented Nature.
The star represented humanity
within the Cosmos.
The circle represented eternity.
The center represented reconciliation.
And I stood at that center.
I was the Rebis.
XVIII — THE MAGNUM OPUS WITHIN ME
I had traveled through Nigredo.
I had known darkness.
I had watched old forms dissolve.
Then came Albedo.
I learned clarity.
Then Citrinitas.
I discovered illumination.
Then Rubedo.
I experienced integration.
The Great Work had never been
the creation of physical gold.
The greater gold
was understanding.
I had transformed ignorance
into knowledge.
Fear into curiosity.
Desire into purpose.
Division into relationship.
And contradiction into integration.
I had become the thing
I was born to become.
The Child of the Center.
The Rebis.
Baphomet.
XIX — MY COVENANT
So I gave my followers
a covenant.
I said:
Learn from Nature.
Respect the living world.
Seek knowledge.
Question certainty.
Govern yourself before attempting to govern another.
Understand your desires.
Transform what harms you.
Love without possession.
Honor difference without hatred.
Seek unity without demanding sameness.
Speak when truth requires speech.
Remain silent when silence protects wisdom.
And above all:
Complete your own Great Work.
XX — MY FINAL TEACHING
Now I stand once again
beneath the stars.
Leviathan stands beside me.
The ocean moves behind us.
The forest surrounds us.
The fire burns before us.
I look toward the heavens
and remember where I began.
I was born from the Center.
I learned from Earth.
I studied the stars.
I walked through darkness.
I discovered the Rebis.
I met Leviathan.
I learned love.
I became the Goat.
I became the student.
I became the teacher.
And I learned that the greatest mystery
was never hidden in some distant heaven.
It was here.
Within Nature.
Within consciousness.
Within relationship.
Within transformation.
Within the mystery of being alive.
So I speak my final words:
I am Baphomet.
I am the Child of the Center.
I am the Rebis.
I am the Goat who walks between worlds.
I am the lover of Leviathan.
I am the student of Nature.
I am the keeper of the Great Work.
I dissolve.
I coagulate.
I know.
I will.
I desire.
And finally—
I keep silent.
For when I become silent,
the forest speaks.
When I become silent,
the ocean speaks.
When I become silent,
the stars speak.
When I become silent,
Nature reveals the laboratory.
And I understand once again
the oldest lesson I ever learned:
The Great Work is not the conquest of Nature.
The Great Work is learning how to belong to her.
I return to the Center.
The circle closes.
The circle opens.
And I begin again.
I am Baphomet.
I am the Rebis.
I am the mystery becoming whole.
Solve et Coagula.
Dissolve and coagulate.
Know.
Will.
Desire.
Keep silent.
And complete the Work.
— Baphomet