How the Heroic Minute Changed My Mornings

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By Thandi Chindove

For as long as I can remember, my least favourite part of the day is waking up. There is something about the sound of the alarm or opening my eyes to see a new morning that fills me up with dread. As is the case with many people, I love to sleep. Few things can beat a solid night’s rest, so being pulled out of that serenity into the harsh reality of a new day has never been something I sought to embrace. 

That all changed when I was introduced to Fiat 90. Inspired by and adapted from Exodus 90, Fiat 90 is a spiritual exercise of prayer, fasting, and other sacrifices meant to bring participants closer to God. While Exodus 90 is more tailored to the firm discipline and physical traits of masculinity, there are several female focused adaptations like Fiat 90 (none of which are affiliated with or directly endorsed by the creators of Exodus 90), that specifically involve more internal work for women

The terms of Fiat 90 are difficult and, when I first read them, I was understandably nervous. The thought of going without snacks was unappealing and, as a night owl, I had no idea how I would get to sleep before midnight almost every night. Of all the conditions, though, the one I dreaded the most was the Heroic Minute––a practice that requires you to get up at your first alarm, no snooze button allowed. 

I was accustomed to being woken up by my alarm and then dozing casually until I had only half an hour left before I had to leave the house. There wasn’t much I could do about having to face the day, but I was used to delaying it as much as I could. This discipline forced me to give up the very first comfort of my day.

The Heroic Minute is closely linked with the spirituality of Opus Dei. Their prelature is known for its dedication to encouraging everyday holiness and virtue for lay people, regardless of their vocations. The founder of the prelature, St. Josemaría Escrivá first coined the name for this sacrifice in his book The Way, “The heroic minute. It is the time fixed for getting up. Without hesitation: a supernatural reflection and...up! The heroic minute: here you have a mortification that strengthens your will and does no harm to your body.” 

Elsewhere in the book, St. Josemaria explains the fruits of this self-discipline, encouraging all of his spiritual children to partake in it:

Conquer yourself each day from the very first moment, getting up on the dot, at a set time, without granting a single minute to laziness. If, with the help of God, you conquer yourself in that moment, you’ll have accomplished a great deal for the rest of the day. 

Taking St. Josemaría’s words to heart, I set out to find a specific supernatural reflection to get me out of bed. The pain of tearing myself from my sheets must have reminded me of Lent because I eventually settled on the Lenten Gospel Acclamation, “Glory and praise to You, Lord Jesus Christ.”

After deciding on this phrase, oftentimes singing it in my head as I pulled myself up, I found the struggle became easier. My mind shifted away from my disappointment at being awake or the pain of interrupted sleep. Instead, I came to focus on Jesus. With Him as my first, intentional thought of the day I sought to do my best, knowing that this was my first offering to God. 

While that first moment of getting out of bed, feeling the cold air robbing me of my warmth, might have felt painful, it wasn’t. It was uncomfortable, but there was no pain or harm being done to my body or my mind. And, within minutes, the misery was forgotten, my psyche finally accepting that sleep was done for the morning. 

Through the Heroic Minute, I found myself growing in personal satisfaction. It transformed a routine that would, on worse days, leave me brushing my teeth with my eyes closed into mornings that gave me more time and less anxiety. There was a peace and a stillness springing from that first offering each morning. I began to understand the significance of deciding not to claim that first minute for myself and, instead, choosing to give it over to my God. It gave me no promise of a perfect day––sometimes I would feel the urge to nap by noon––but the awareness and intentionality of that first moment would carry me through until I found myself in bed again. All at once, the sacrifice I had been dreading was helping me to make better choices for myself.

I also discovered that the more I neglected my sleep the harder that first minute became. So I drew up a routine for myself, nothing concrete, but a rough outline to help me start. I scheduled a regular bedtime and wake up time, scheduled time for prayer and meditation, and a time to put my phone away, light a candle, and listen to a podcast (most recently The Bible In A Year) before calling it a night. What happened in between those scheduled moments was up to me on any given day, but this routine built my self-discipline and self-mastery before I had the chance to do anything else. 

If we can be faithful in our gratitude for the smallest gift of a new day, then we are better prepared to be faithful in the face of greater gifts. For the next challenge that stares us in the face––whether that be the blaring alarm or someone who seems intent on trying our patience––St. Josemaría has more words of encouragement. He says, “Do everything for Love. Thus there will be no little things: everything will be big. Perseverance in little things for Love is heroism.”

The Heroic Minute presents us with an opportunity to choose God in the very first moment of each day, acknowledging the gift of life and our call to serve. By taking hold of this moment, and intentionally choosing to die to myself, I’ve felt better equipped to face each day with the grace necessary to get through it. 

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St. Joseph: Master of the Interior Life

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