Madrid has taught me that sunlight is not merely a sensation upon the skin, but a sacred inheritance like a root deep underground. Something luminous that takes up residence within soul.
Each morning, the heavens unfurl in resplendent blue, vast and unblemished, almost as though the sky itself is expectant. The air is honey-warmed and euphoric, brushing against my brown skin with a tenderness that feels almost liturgical. As a Black girl in a foreign land, i arrived carrying both quiet questions and radiant hope; but here, beneath this extravagant Spanish sun, I have begun to understand that light does not discriminate; it anoints.
Coming just for an academic year: syllabi; seminars; scholarly ambition; but Madrid, in its generous splendour, has offered me a curriculum far more divine. My education spills beyond lecture halls into labyrinthine streets humming with life, into candlelit chapels fragrant with reverence, into sun-drenched plazas where laughter rises like incense. My friendships are a constellation: Brazillian warmth; Haitian brilliance; German precision, Korean grace yet each voice distinct, yet harmonising in chorus of shared wonder.
One evening, beneath the dim, reverent glow of a ‘traje de flamenca’, I witnessed a dancer whose movements thundered like prophecy. Her feet struck the earth with ferocious elegance, her hands carving the air as though summoning ancient truths. It was not merely a performance but a testimony. I thought of the Bible in 2 Samuel 6:14, where David dances deeper, more of embodied praise. More spiritual, perfect twirls that tell the perfect story of the human condition. Unconditional love, sorrow and joy.
On another night, within the gilded embrace of a grand theatre. I beheld The Lion King musical; a spectacle of sound and soul. When the chorus declared, “He lives in your,” it reverberated beyond melody into revelation. Identity ceased to feel distant or abstract; it became intimate, ancestral, divinely assured.
Yet it is in the quiet place, sacred spaces that my spirit has most profoundly awakened. In intimate Bible studies, where scripture is unfurled with gentle intentionality, and on a Christian retreat where the air itself seemed saturated with the nearness of God, I have encountered a faith that is both anchoring and expansive. Serving within the Church, offering my time and presence, I have discovered that joy is not diminished in giving. It is magnified, sanctified, made whole.
And always, the sun, golden, prodigal and effulgent. It cascades over terracotta rooftops, glimmers along ancient stone, and rests upon my face like benediction. It calls to mind Psalm 84:11: “For the Lord is a sun and shield.” Here, I do merely recite it; I inhabit it. He is my warmth in unfamiliarity, my refuge in becoming, my radiance in every unfolding.
I am still in the sacred process of becoming through stretching, softening, rising.
But here, in this vibrant, sun-drenched city, I no longer search for belonging as something distant.
I carry it. `
I embody it.
I bloom.
