The Daily Examen in 3 Minutes
The daily examen is a five-step evening prayer St. Ignatius of Loyola taught in the 1500s. Give thanks, ask for light, review the day, ask forgiveness, look toward tomorrow. Three minutes, same time each night, and the habit forms itself.
Most Catholic spiritual practices fall into two categories: large, involving (the Rosary, Lectio Divina, the Liturgy of the Hours) and small, habitual (the sign of the cross, grace before meals, the Angelus). The Daily Examen is one of the best examples of the second kind. It takes three minutes. You can do it in bed, at your desk, on a train, or in your car at a red light. It was designed in the 1520s by an ex-soldier recovering from a cannonball injury, and it has been working ever since.
This post explains the five steps, what to actually think about during each, and how to build the habit in a way that lasts past week three.
What is the daily examen?
The daily examen is a short, structured evening prayer in which a Christian reviews the day with God. It was developed by St. Ignatius of Loyola as the beating heart of the thirty-day retreat he called the Spiritual Exercises. Ignatius considered the examen so important that he instructed his Jesuits to do it every day even when they could not do anything else — even if prayer, fasting, and the full office were somehow impossible, the examen was to remain.
The point is not to score yourself or generate guilt. It is to notice, before the day ends, where God was present and where you were not paying attention.
A short word on Ignatius, because it shapes the prayer. He was a Basque nobleman and a soldier; he was injured by a cannonball at the siege of Pamplona in 1521 and spent a long convalescence reading the only two books in the castle that had nursed him — a life of Christ and a book of saints' lives. What he noticed during that recovery became the Spiritual Exercises: a structured way of paying attention to the internal movements of the soul, treating them as information about where God was leading and where something else was. The daily examen distils that method into a few minutes a night.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church treats examination of conscience as part of the larger life of the Christian: "The reception of this sacrament ought to be prepared for by an examination of conscience made in the light of the Word of God" (CCC 1454). The Ignatian examen is the daily, non-sacramental version of that same practice — a short nightly habit that, over months, keeps the soul's accounting honest.
What are the five steps?
Ignatius gave five. They take between fifteen and thirty seconds each at a working pace.
- Gratitude. Thank God for the day — for at least one specific thing that happened.
- Ask for light. Pray for God's help to see the day as he sees it, not as you are tempted to narrate it.
- Review. Walk through the day in order, noticing where you were close to God and where you drifted.
- Respond. Ask forgiveness for what went wrong; give thanks for what went right.
- Resolve. Look toward tomorrow and ask for grace for one specific thing.
These five, done in order, are the entire prayer. You do not need a book, a kneeler, or a quiet room. You need three minutes.
When should you do it?
The traditional time is in the evening, just before bed. That is when the day is fresh enough to recall honestly and when the examen can frame the last thing you think about before sleep. Ignatius also recommended a shorter midday examen, but for beginners and for most working Catholics, once a day at night is enough.
The more important rule is same time every night. The habit research here is boringly consistent: a fixed cue (brushing teeth, getting into bed, closing your laptop) attached to a fixed action, repeated for about four weeks, turns the action into something you do without needing to decide. Variable timing delays this by months.
Pick one cue. Keep it. The examen will take care of itself after that.
What do you actually think about during the "review"?
This is the step that stops most people. Five minutes into a review, the mind either blanks or spirals into a list of low-grade grievances and distractions. Neither is what Ignatius had in mind.
The Ignatian review is not a diary. It is a walkthrough, in chronological order, of the day's main moments, with attention to one specific question: where did I feel close to God, and where did I feel distant? Ignatius called these movements consolation and desolation. They are not mood states. They are markers that point to how you responded to what happened.
A typical review might look like this, internally, across 45 seconds:
- Woke up — slept poorly, snapped at my partner over something minor. (Desolation, pride.)
- Morning meeting — was actually present, helped a colleague through a problem. (Consolation.)
- Lunch — scrolled my phone instead of praying grace. (Mild distraction.)
- Afternoon — handled a difficult email with more patience than I expected. (Grace.)
- Evening — watched something I shouldn't have, knew it, did anyway. (Clear fall.)
You do not narrate this out loud. You do not journal it (unless journaling is already your practice). You notice, and you move on.
Over weeks, patterns begin to show. You notice that certain times of day (late afternoon, Sunday evenings, the hour after a difficult call) are consistently where you drift; that certain people draw out either your best or your worst; that a particular small habit — checking the phone the moment you wake up, skipping the Sunday Mass you are closest to, eating lunch while working — is reliably followed by desolation the rest of the day. This is the real gift of the examen: not a single night's data, but the quiet map that builds up over a few months.
Why does 3 minutes work better than 20?
Most people who try a long examen abandon it within two weeks. The reason is not laziness — it is the economics of daily habits. A 20-minute prayer commits you to a significant chunk of every day. On any night you are tired, busy, sick, travelling, or emotionally flat, the 20-minute version gets skipped. Skipped twice, the habit dies.
A 3-minute examen is almost always possible. You can do it in the three minutes after you close your laptop, in bed before you turn out the light, or in your car while parked in the driveway. The length is chosen deliberately: short enough to never be the reason you skipped, long enough to be real prayer.
Psalm 139 is a good internal frame for it: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139:23–24). The whole examen fits inside that psalm's spirit. You are asking God to see you truly, and then listening for a minute.
What if nothing comes to mind?
Most nights, something does. On the nights it does not, the prayer itself is still valid. The examen is not contingent on producing interesting material.
Three things that help when the mind goes blank:
Start with gratitude, specifically. Not "I'm grateful for today" but "I'm grateful that the 10 AM meeting went well, for the strong coffee at lunch, for my partner making dinner." Specificity kicks the memory into gear and usually pulls the rest of the examen along behind it.
Review just the last three hours. If the whole day is too much, compress. The last three hours are usually vivid enough to mine.
Do it badly. A thirty-second examen done drowsily, half-asleep, counts. Ignatius was pragmatic about this. The habit is the point. The habit is what keeps you able to do the deeper versions on the nights you can.
How do you build it into a habit?
Four rules that work:
- Attach it to an existing cue. After brushing teeth. After getting into bed. After closing your laptop. Pick one and stick with it.
- Do not try to journal it. The examen is prayer, not a log. Writing it down turns a three-minute habit into a ten-minute chore and usually kills it within a fortnight.
- Keep it three minutes. Resist the urge to extend once the habit is forming. The short version is what made it sustainable.
- Do it seven nights in a row, then fourteen, then twenty-eight. After twenty-eight nights, the brain treats it as default. After that, the prayer becomes something you miss on the rare nights you skip.
For Catholics rebuilding a prayer life after a gap — see How to Go to Confession After Years Away — the daily examen is often the simplest rhythm to restart with. It asks for three minutes. It asks nothing about past skipped prayer. It starts tonight, with whatever today actually was, and it does not need you to be anywhere particular to begin.
Common questions
Is this the same as examination of conscience for confession? +
Related but not identical. The sacramental examination of conscience, done before going to confession, looks specifically for mortal and serious venial sins to confess. The daily examen is broader — it reviews the whole day's interior movements, not only sins. A person who does the daily examen regularly finds sacramental examination of conscience much easier, because the patterns are already visible.
Do I need to kneel or do anything physical? +
No. Ignatius himself did not prescribe a posture. Sitting, standing, lying down, walking — any of them works. If posture matters to you, use one. If not, do not add friction.
Can I do it in the shower, on my commute, or while walking? +
Yes, with the caveat that any setting full of external distraction will make the "review" step harder. The examen works best with five minutes of relative quiet, but it is better to do it distracted than not at all. For beginners, the pre-sleep version in a quiet bedroom tends to form the habit fastest.
What if I fall asleep during it? +
If this happens often, move the examen slightly earlier — at the end of dinner, or during the walk home, or when you first sit on the bed before getting under the covers. Falling asleep mid-prayer is not a grave failure; it is usually a signal to shift the timing by twenty minutes.
Is it too Jesuit if I'm not Catholic? +
The examen predates the Jesuits' institutional existence (Ignatius wrote it down in the 1520s; the Society of Jesus was founded in 1540), and its five-step structure maps onto prayer practices in most Christian traditions. You can pray it without subscribing to any specifically Catholic doctrine. Many non-Catholic Christians do.
The Daily Examen is the kind of practice whose effect is invisible until several months in. On day one it feels like a small assignment. On day three hundred, it has become the spine of how you process a day — and you notice, by absence, the nights you skip. Three minutes, same time, every evening. That is the whole method.
For the morning or midday version of a small, regular Catholic pause, the Angelus does the same work at a different hour of the day.