Centering Prayer is a gentle, contemplative practice of resting in God's presence — open, quiet, and utterly free. No experience required. Just you, a sacred word, and twenty minutes.
Centering Prayer is a Christian contemplative practice developed in the 1970s by Trappist monks — most notably Thomas Keating, William Meninger, and Basil Pennington — at St. Joseph's Abbey in Massachusetts. They drew from the Desert Fathers and the medieval classic The Cloud of Unknowing.
At its heart, Centering Prayer isn't about doing. It's about consenting. It's an act of opening your whole self — thoughts, worries, hopes — and simply resting in God's presence without agenda or expectation.
You don't need to be traditionally religious to benefit. Many people — of all faiths and backgrounds — find Centering Prayer to be a powerful doorway into deeper stillness, inner calm, and a sense of connection to something larger than themselves.
Centering Prayer shares qualities with meditation — but it's distinctly its own practice.
Mindfulness trains focused attention on breath or sensation. Centering Prayer, by contrast, lets thoughts arise and pass without observing them. The sacred word is a gentle intention to consent — not a focus point.
Lectio Divina is contemplative reading and reflection on scripture. Centering Prayer goes beyond words and concepts entirely — it's resting in silence beyond thinking, feeling, and imaging.
Centering Prayer is a method for cultivating contemplative prayer — the deeper experience of union with God. It prepares the soil; contemplation is what grows. You're not manufacturing stillness; you're showing up for it.
Centering Prayer has a beautifully simple structure. You don't need to get it perfect — there is no perfect. Here's how each session naturally unfolds.
Select a short word that symbolizes your intention to consent to God's presence — something like peace, open, love, yes, or still. What matters is what it means to you in this moment, not the word itself.
Find a position that's comfortable but alert — not so cozy you'll drift off, not so rigid you're distracted by tension. Let your body soften. Take a few natural breaths. There is nowhere else to be.
Silently and gently introduce your word. Think of it less like a mantra and more like a flag you plant: I am here. I consent. Let it rest lightly in awareness — not forced, not forgotten.
When you notice you've been pulled into a thought — and you will be, many times — simply and gently return to your sacred word. No judgment, no frustration. The returning is the practice. Each gentle return is an act of love.
When your session ends, remain in silence for a minute or two before opening your eyes. Let yourself slowly return to ordinary awareness. This gentle transition is a meaningful part of the practice — don't rush it.
If your mind wanders a hundred times, you're not doing it wrong — you're doing exactly what humans do. Each gentle return to your word is a small act of prayer. This practice meets you exactly where you are.
Your body is a participant in this practice. A relaxed, upright posture signals to the whole of you: I'm awake, I'm open, I'm here.
Sit in a chair with both feet planted, feeling the ground beneath you. This creates rootedness that carries into your inner life.
Place your hands in your lap, palms up or down — whatever feels natural and open. Let your arms relax completely.
Your spine is long but not stiff. Imagine a gentle thread lifting the crown of your head. Alert, but at ease.
Closing your eyes helps turn attention inward. If that's uncomfortable, lower your gaze to a soft focus a few feet ahead.
You don't need to control your breath. Let it breathe you. If you notice tension in your jaw, shoulders, or hands — simply let it soften.
Choose a duration, settle in, and let the bell mark the way. You don't need to watch the time — that's what this is for.
The fruits of Centering Prayer tend to show up in daily life as a subtle shift in presence, patience, and perspective. Here's what practitioners often discover over time.
A growing capacity to remain settled even in stressful moments. The practice literally trains your nervous system to return to peace.
As you practice releasing thoughts during prayer, you become less controlled by them in daily life. A quiet spaciousness grows within.
Many practitioners notice they become more patient and loving — with others and with themselves. Stillness is kind.
Regular practice tends to deepen faith, prayer life, and a sense of connection to the sacred — whatever form that takes for you.
The deep rest of Centering Prayer is often compared to the restorative depth of sleep — practitioners frequently notice improvements in sleep quality.
Showing up daily to sit in silence — even imperfectly — creates a felt sense of intention and meaning that quietly shapes a life.
You're not alone in asking these. Every question here was once asked by someone who later became a faithful practitioner.
Start the PracticeCentering Prayer has Christian roots and uses the language of God and divine presence. That said, many people from various faith traditions — and some with no specific religious affiliation — find real value in the practice. What matters most is your sincere intention to open and rest. Adjust the language in ways that feel meaningful to you.
Then you're having a completely normal experience of being human. A wandering mind isn't failure — it's just the mind doing what minds do. Each gentle return to your sacred word is its own small act of prayer. Some sessions feel busy and restless; others feel spacious. Both are practice. Both are good.
Thomas Keating recommended 20 minutes twice daily — but that's an ideal, not a requirement. Even 10 minutes once a day is a meaningful practice when you're beginning. Start with what feels sustainable, and let it grow naturally. Consistency matters more than duration.
It happens — especially to beginners. If you fall asleep often, try keeping your feet flat on the floor rather than reclining. Some teachers even say that falling asleep during Centering Prayer points to a rest need deeper than sleep — a kind of spiritual rest — being met at a profound level.
Yes — and ideally keep the same word for each session, at least for a season. Short words work best: love, peace, open, listen, grace, yes, God. Choose one that resonates, and let it be your symbol of consent rather than something you repeat rhythmically.
This is normal and actually a sign the practice is working. Centering Prayer tends to surface emotional material held below awareness — grief, tension, joy, longing. Practitioners call this the "unloading of the unconscious." Treat whatever arises gently: acknowledge it, release it, and return to your word.
Showing up matters more than doing it perfectly. These small habits help make Centering Prayer a sustainable part of daily life.
Habit is your friend. Practicing at the same hour each day — morning is traditional — means you spend less energy deciding and more energy simply showing up.
Avoid rating your prayer time as "good" or "bad." A busy session is just as valuable as a peaceful one. What matters is that you came.
Practicing with others — even once a month — deepens commitment and offers shared encouragement. Contemplative Outreach hosts groups worldwide.
The benefits of Centering Prayer tend to emerge slowly, like light at dawn. Trust the practice even when you can't feel it working — especially then.
You don't need to prepare more, understand more, or believe more. Centering Prayer asks only that you show up — imperfectly, willingly, and open. That is more than enough.
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