Last week’s post may have been a surprise to many of you. I finally broke my silence after months of being gone from this site. I had shut it down because of a need to cut costs, but some very kind friends paid to have it reactivated, and I am very grateful. What a gift. So I am giving back from the things I have written in the interim since I haven’t had much time to prepare a freshly written series, and this one seems fitting for the season. Please feel free to join me in these guided meditations for praying the hours (if you are comfortable with it.)

First, we started with midnight. Next is Lauds (3 a.m.), the hour many might assume we should be asleep, but perhaps we can’t sleep or are in pain or are pushing a deadline and the invitation to pause and breathe intentionally can be helpful in slowing the racing thoughts or pounding pulse. Last week, I shared an infographic for the specific hours, and I didn’t explain that it is about 6 years old and calling it an infographic might be a bit of a stretch, but it’s a great reference tool in spite of its outdated quality. I have plans to update it, but we’ll use what we have for now. This week’s meditation is also perfect for Advent and the Winter Solstice, because Lauds is about anticipating the light and reaching toward hope while we wait for the dawn that seems so far off. (Please note I am writing based on my experience with finding peace for my body through active meditation. It is not a remedy or prescription, just something I find helpful and comforting, so I wanted to share it.)

A Guided Meditation For Lauds

This is often a stressful hour- a middle of the night awakening or perhaps pain keeping sleep at arms’ length. You may feel you are in a space of unending need, but you can inhabit it right now as a noticer, not a person who must fix or save things.

Notice three things about yourself- how it feels to move your eyes about, where the air movement is coming from, a tight jaw unclenching. As a person anticipating the dawn, let your thoughts move lightward. Even if you can’t feel it, see it, sense it, you can remember it.

Briefly stretch your arms out directly in front of you, as though you are reaching toward the joy, clasping your hands to cradle hope, then let your arms rest at your sides. With your chest first- take a gentle, hopeful breath. Then with your diaphragm- take a more expansive breath. When you’re ready, with your whole body- take a deep breath down to your toes.

Believing in the miracle of morning is simple and hard at the same time. Finding your breath and movement in a cold reality that makes your bones ache? It can feel unreal and unattainable, but you long for it anyway: that approaching day with new opportunities for the world to be made kind.

As you feel a fragile gratitude for being present to the inkling of a new day, even as you long for more time before awakening in order to unknow the destruction of yesterday, let the welcome seep in - the day, the warmth, the light, is soon returning. Welcome the soon-ness of it. Invite the relief. Make peace with lost sleep. Welcome the space for a little more rest.

If you find yourself wondering about a future and your place in it, clasp opposite shoulders in an embrace to remind yourself you are held.

If you are anxiously wondering if you will get to be a participant in something you hold dear? Place a hand over your heart and take a deep breath of hope that revelation may precede inspiration, because you have sought answers and direction for so long. Hold it for a moment, along with the comfort that the sun will always rise, even when most things seem unsure. Now, vocally release your breath, knowing: a new day is the new gift of a fresh perspective, and an opportunity to weave hope through all the kindness and freedom you have to offer- to yourself and all creation.

Repeat as many times as you need. Joy is approaching.

What Can We Pray In The Veiled Hours Between Dark And Dawn? (Lauds)

A Guided Meditation For Lauds

From The Archives