A huge thank you to all those who entered into our first ever Sacred Spaces competition! The Sacred Footsteps team has chosen 10 finalists, who we felt told a compelling story, *both* in words and images, of their personal ‘sacred space’.
The 10 finalists are listed below in alphabetical order. Fill out the form at the bottom of the page to pick your favourite! The winner (who receives the most votes by readers) will have the opportunity to share their story with our followers, readers and listeners on Instagram, website and podcast, as well as receive a selection of books handpicked by the Sacred Footsteps team.
Voting closes at Midnight (UK time) 17th May 2019
Ahmad El Khatib El Matador Beach, California
It unfolds almost instantly before your eyes as you approach the shore. Massive geological formations tower above the sand, scattered throughout the beach and reaching for the clouds above. Light and shadow dance, interwoven between the caves carved into the rock. The tide, in it’s comings and goings, brings with it mist that glistens under the sunlight.
There’s more beauty in these frames than one glance can do justice. My glance begins sheltered in the familiarity of the cave, almost black. It’s then magnetically drawn to the centre, wherein lies a gateway to the outside world. Bright light tries to penetrate the calm darkness of the cave, but to no avail. The cave stands firm.
There is a softness to the shadows that blanket the shore and the sand is smooth, either untrodden or having forgotten, by way of wave, the feet that graced it.
Azhar Omar Limbe Masjid, Malawi
Decorated with one tall minaret, the mosque calls worshippers for the five daily prayers as all other mosques do. The secret to swimming in the pool of elation, however, lay between the crucial time before the sunset prayer. As you take your seat upon the soft carpet, a unique fragrance is released complimented by the whispers of worshippers and the soothing hymns of birds. The golden sun shoots its rays through the arched windows as though it is eager to experience the tranquility too. Life is overcome by blissful prayer, sublime atmosphere and overall, innermost serenity. Who knew such a heavenly place existed in the midst of this humble land?
Crystal McIntosh Monument Valley in the Navajo reservation, Arizona
Monument Valley in the Navajo reservation in Arizona is my sacred place. “SubhanAllah” is the only word I feel captures the essence of these photos and the feeling of standing on that red sand, touching that red rock, watching the clouds envelope the buttes, and speaking with the native people who live within and are part of this sacred land. As the American identity evolves, the significance of her Native roots only increases. The sacred monuments in this valley stand as a representation of what was, and the resilience that will remain.
Dewan Choudhary Behind the Wheel
My sacred space is actually… behind the wheel. Some people read, others meditate I like to drive to help clear my mind. Just drive for the sake of driving, no destination, taking random turns, late at night when there’s no traffic (this has actually helped me uncover a few hidden gems).
I believe it’s the seclusion, being alone in the car whilst being in control, that let’s my mind wander yet focus. When there are so many distractions vying for ‘braintime’, driving is my getaway.
Home In The Air Tomb of Prophet Ezekiel, Al-Kifl, Iraq
This mosque here is located in the small city of Al-Kifl or “Chifel” as it is pronounced in an Iraqi dialect. Inside is the tomb of Dhul-Kifl (Prophet Ezekiel). Inside lie many other holy tombs and “maqams” of noble men and Prophets. The city itself is very poor and to reach the mosque you have to walk through dirty alleys. The mosque didn’t seem to be visited frequently though one of the people working there took us on a tour around the building. The most interesting part was seeing Ezekiels tomb itself. I was surprised to see Hebrew scriptures all over the room. Ezekiel was a Jewish Prophet, preaching to the Babylonian Jews. Before 1948, 400 Iraqi Jews lived in this city and used the place as a synagogue, side by side with the Muslims who used it as mosque. The guide told us that the place was destroyed several times in history, but they could never demolish the minaret no matter how much they tried. The result is a leaning minaret.
And of course seeing the tomb gave us all goosebumps. Here, the oldest version of the Torah was kept for hundreds (if not thousands) of years. The guide himself had protected it, until the Iraq war when it was removed by the Americans and sent to the Israeli government, who received it with a big ceremony. It wasn’t an easy story for the guide to tell.
Mumin Qadiriya Tekke, Tripoli, Lebanon
The door to a small Qadiriya Tekke in Tripoli Lebanon, to me, shows ultimate humility, whilst the engraved poetry alongside it alludes to heavenly power and the divine reality. This duality of beauty and majesty is the highlight of the Tarikat, to evoke the sensation of majesty from unity, and the sensation of beauty from diversity.
Naila Missous Beb el Oued, Algiers, Algeria
Sacredness is a term too abstract to fit into one single definition. I think, for most, sacredness feels and fits the ‘religious’. However, if God is omnipresent, then my sacred space can be anywhere. Algiers has always held a special place in my mind as well as heart. Sometimes, inexplicably. Especially for a place I’ve graced but was not born in. A non residential home. Le Bastion 23 – Palais des Rais is a Moorish dream. The outside oozes dusty, orange landscapes that marry the weather. It’s views are of the Mediterranean as it kisses the shores. The inside, however, is a hidden away treasure. A sensory overload… Yet also serene. My sacred space is colourful yet clean. Eye-catching yet streamlined. Calm yet busy. Hand painted tiles, lattices and curved rooftops make for a wander in a wonderland. I visit it at least once when I’m in Algiers. A ritual some may say, because the interiors have stood the test of time and also tell a history. That means not much has changed. But I have changed. Each time a new person entering the same old, same old. Bars lock the sun out, but allow for a peak from the ray. The plants sit heavily, dangling like a heart contemplating its next move. A fanous hangs proudly. No doubt it lit a few nights of story telling and dinners. Now, it simply lights a few thoughts in people’s minds. Every now and then. God is omnipresent here. And through the bars. And over the cool sea. A sacred space of minds resuscitating at each new detail.
NazishGreat Mosque of Central Java in Semarang
I travelled to Semarang from Calgary last Ramadan to volunteer with a local nonprofit. It was my first time in Indonesia. These pictures are from the first time I visited the Great Mosque of Central Java in Semarang. I was emotionally overwhelmed when I looked at the masjid, soaking in the afternoon sun. After praying Asr, I sat down and looked around at the stillness of everything. It was incredibly peaceful.
Sometimes you just have to trust—trust the path and start walking, out of your comfort zone and into the unknown, walk to the end of the world if needed. Keep walking because that is the only way of figuring out this feeling within you, constantly pulling at your heart, making you want to cry everytime you put your head down in a sujood.
Salim Bharwani Tomb of Husayn, Iraq
With the dawn of each new year many are accustomed to making resolutions, whereas I only have one wish, request, desire, prayer on my mind: to be granted the opportunity to visit a space deeply sacred to me and millions of others around the world- the tomb of Husayn, on the day of Arbaeen. There is a specific spot I have gravitated towards for the past several years, which is against a wall at the back of the grand mausoleum of Husayn Ibn Ali. From this spot, I have the perfect view of the main entrance of the tomb and it is from here that I am able to simply sit and watch the lovers of Husayn flooding in. They flock to his tomb in waves, chanting and shouting various slogans, declaring their allegiance to Husayn’s cause for social justice. The noise and atmosphere is deafening and there is hardly any space to move. All around there are lines and lines of organised processions, waving flags and banging drums whilst broadcasting eulogies on loud speakers. In fact, many have suggested I visit during another time of the year when there is plenty of space and no nouse so that I can ‘concentrate better’. To them I say definitively and with all my heart, it is at this very moment, in this position, on this day and at this time, that I live my entire year for. I yearn to be surrounded by lovers of Husyan who exude such passion and unwavering loyalty and commitment to his message, because amidst all the rush my heart feels truly at peace. My inner being is content and at ease, not longing or wanting anything but to remain. At that moment, it feels like I am connected to or plugged into something greater and bigger. I feel as though I am sitting in solitude with my Lord and nothing else on the face of this planet matters- just like Husayn on that fateful day of the 10th. I am prepared to forgo everything I hold near and dear to remain in this sacred space. A space where I prolong my prostrations to my Lord and raise my hands to the skies thanking Him for yet again granting me the opportunity to be present at the tomb of Husayn on the day of Arbaeen.
Uzair Qureshi Boubacar, Mauritania
This is the village of Boubacar in Mauritania, that I try and visit every year. It has become my spiritual home. The village is an arduous 3 hour journey into the desert from Nouakchott. There we find simple homes and people with just the bare necessities to live. We have no access to the internet, we sleep on the floor and eat simple food. It is totally cut off from the world, a world away from the UK. Despite the minimalist life, the locals are the most God conscious, present souls I have ever met. This has such a profound effect on my soul- I feel nourished. The day revolves around God; prayers, communal zikr, Quran and poetry. You are forced to immerse yourself in the remembrance of God. The hardest part is leaving and readjusting to life back in the UK. The reason my heart continues to yearn for this place, is because of how immersed and present I become; free from distraction and more God conscious. This is the place I come to be removed, to heal and develop spiritually.
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[yop_poll id=1]Voting closes at Midnight (UK time) 17th May 2019
