Remembering You’re Holy — Even on the Hard Days
Bring your hands together in prayer. Take a breath.
Whenever you feel depleted, frustrated, or ready to give up—whenever anger or resentment creeps in—just look at your hands , this beautiful prayer centereds at your heart, and remember: you are holy. No matter what human emotions rise and fall, your essence doesn’t change. You are a child of the Divine—a magnificent, radiant being.
Now, I’ll be honest—there are days I feel anything but holy. There are days when I’m angry, bitchy, impatient, and, frankly, not the nicest person to be around. We all have those days, right? The ones when everything seems to rub you the wrong way and you can practically feel your patience evaporating by 8 a.m.? Yeah, those.
For a long time, I thought being “holy” meant being perfect—kind all the time, forgiving instantly, endlessly patient, never saying the wrong thing. The word holy was something I heard in church, not something I associated with myself in my messy, human moments. It felt out of reach, reserved for saints and sacred statues, not for me sitting in traffic muttering under my breath.
But yoga changed that.
Through my practice—on and off the mat—I’ve learned that my life itself is a holy experience. Not because I’ve perfected anything, but because I am a Divine being, a Spirit living in a human body. The journey, the imperfection, the learning—it’s all sacred.
The Messy Side of Being Human
There’s something strangely beautiful about admitting that we don’t always have it together. Some days, my yoga feels off, my breath feels shallow, and my mind refuses to quiet down. Other days, I’m not the patient, grounded teacher or partner or friend I want to be.
And yet… even in those moments, I am still holy.
You are too.
It’s so easy to forget that, especially when we fall short of our own expectations. We think holiness means being calm and composed 24/7, but being holy doesn’t mean being flawless. It means being whole—embracing all parts of ourselves, even the messy ones.
That’s something yoga teaches us every time we step onto the mat. When we fall out of a pose, when our mind wanders during meditation, when we skip a practice altogether—those moments aren’t signs that we’ve failed. They’re reminders that we’re human, and the human experience is the sacred experience.
A Lesson from My Granny
My Granny used to call me and my sisters her “precious dolls.” It’s one of those little phrases that still makes me smile every time I think about it.
There are days when I’m definitely not what anyone would call a precious doll. On those days, I’m short-tempered, irritable, maybe even a little rough around the edges. Life gets busy. People get under my skin. The “zen” side of me takes a nap.
But beneath the dirt and the hardness that sometimes comes from living this human life, I know that precious doll is still in there—always.
Granny probably didn’t realize it, but she was teaching a spiritual truth: that no matter how much life scuffs us up, our essence remains pure. That little spark of light, that inner goodness—it never goes away. It might get covered by stress, by worry, by guilt, but it’s still shining underneath.
Holiness Isn’t Earned
When I first began to understand this, it was both comforting and humbling. I didn’t have to earn my holiness. I didn’t have to do or say all the right things to be worthy of it.
Holiness isn’t a status we reach; it’s the truth of who we already are.
Think about it: we are made of the same energy that created the stars, the oceans, the mountains, and every living being. That energy flows through us—it breathes us. The Divine isn’t something “out there”; it’s what animates this life, yourlife, my life.
Every time we breathe with awareness, move with intention, or show compassion to ourselves or someone else, we touch that holiness. But even when we don’t—when we forget, when we stumble—it doesn’t disappear. It’s still there, quietly waiting for us to remember.
A Holy Practice
If you’ve ever had one of those days—the kind that makes you question your sanity and your patience—try this simple practice:
Pause. Stop whatever you’re doing for just a moment.
Bring your hands together in prayer. Feel the warmth between your palms.
Take a slow breath in.
Say silently (or aloud): I am holy. I am Divine. I am a magnificent being.
Notice how your body responds. Do your shoulders drop? Does your breath deepen?
Let that small act remind you that you’re not your frustration, your mood, or your mistakes. You’re something much deeper—something sacred and whole.
Seeing the Sacred in the Everyday
Yoga helps us remember that every moment, even the imperfect ones, can be a doorway into grace. Folding laundry, walking the dog, sipping morning coffee—these can all be holy moments when we bring awareness and gratitude to them.
It’s not about escaping the human experience; it’s about embracing it fully. The laughter, the tears, the chaos, the quiet—they all belong. They all hold the spark of the Divine.
So, the next time you catch yourself spiraling into self-judgment or frustration, take a deep breath. Look down at your hands.
Remember—they’ve held joy and comforted pain. They’ve built, hugged, written, cooked, cleaned, prayed, practiced. They are an extension of the Divine at work in this world.
They are holy.
And so are you.
Coming Home to Yourself
Being holy doesn’t mean you never lose your temper or that you always speak sweetly. It means that even when you mess up, you still belong to the Divine. You’re still worthy of love, grace, and forgiveness—especially your own.
So the next time you feel like you’ve lost touch with that sacred part of yourself, pause. Bring your hands together, just as you do at the end of yoga class, and whisper a quiet thank you—for your breath, your body, your heart, and this holy, human life you’re living.
Because no matter how many times you forget it, the truth remains the same:
You are holy.
You are Divine.
You are a magnificent being.
And somewhere inside, beneath the dust and the noise and the wildness of it all, your inner precious doll is still shining, smiling, and saying, “I’m still here.”