I started doing the Daily Examen six months ago. I was reading about Ignatius of Loyola and saw that he believed this short prayer was the one practice every member of his community should never skip. Even on travel days. Even when sick. Even when busy. That got my attention because most spiritual practices get cut first when life gets full.

The Examen is five steps and takes about ten minutes if you do it slowly. You sit somewhere quiet at the end of the day. You ask for the Holy Spirit to help you see clearly. You walk through the day in your memory like you are watching tape. You notice where God showed up and where you missed the moment. You bring whatever needs forgiveness to the Lord. Then you ask for the grace you need tomorrow.

It sounds simple because it is. But the work happens when you actually slow down and notice. The first time I tried it I realized I could barely remember what happened that morning. My day was a blur of tasks and texts and quick conversations. I had been moving so fast I was not present for any of it. That night I felt convicted in a way that no sermon had reached me in months.

Ignatius wrote the Spiritual Exercises in 1522 while recovering from a cannonball injury that ended his military career. He was bored and miserable in a sick bed in northern Spain. He started reading the only books available, which were a life of Christ and a book of saints. Something shifted. He began noticing the difference between thoughts that left him peaceful and thoughts that left him agitated. The Examen came out of that work. He believed God speaks to us through the actual stuff of our days, not separate from them.

There are five steps in the order he taught them. First, gratitude. You name three to five specific things from the day you are grateful for. Not abstract things like family or health, but specific things. The coffee my wife brought me at 6 AM. The text my mom sent at lunch. The way the light hit the tree at 4 PM. Specifics keep this from becoming generic.

Second, you ask for light. You pray that the Holy Spirit would help you see the day the way God saw it. This is the step most people skip. It matters because we are biased reviewers of our own lives. We remember the wins and forget the cuts. We remember our work and forget our family. We remember our holiness and forget our impatience. The light step asks God to show you the truth.

Third, you review the day from morning to night. You go scene by scene through what actually happened. The conversations. The decisions. The reactions. The moments you were rushed and the moments you were present. The goal is not to grade yourself. The goal is to look honestly. Where did I sense joy. Where did I feel resistance. Where did I act from love and where did I act from fear.

Fourth, you respond to what you saw. Where you missed the mark, you ask forgiveness. Where you saw God working, you give thanks. Where you saw a pattern that needs to change, you name it and ask for help. This is not therapy and it is not a self-improvement exercise. It is a conversation with the Lord about what He showed you.

Fifth, you look ahead to tomorrow. You name one specific grace you need. Patience with your kids in the morning. Courage for a hard conversation at work. Discipline to put the phone down. You ask for that grace by name and you commit to noticing whether it shows up.

The compound effect of doing this daily is what surprised me. Two weeks in I was catching myself during the day. I would feel impatience rising and remember I was going to look at this moment later that night. That single thought changed how I responded. The Examen creates a feedback loop where the night practice rewires the day. Patterns I had not noticed in years started becoming visible. Resentments I had buried surfaced. Habits I had defended started to feel small.

If you want to try it, do not over plan. You do not need an app, a journal, or a quiet retreat. You need a chair and ten minutes. The Jesuits keep it stripped down for a reason. Pray it for thirty days and pay attention to what changes. The practice has lasted half a millennium because it does what it claims.