Depending on how the morning (and the morning traffic) goes, I sometimes end up at the church too late for daily Mass (but at least early for Morning Prayer). I typically take a spot in a pew in the back of the dim church and take some time to meditate and pray.
Daily Mass at my parish is celebrated in a small octagonal chapel set behind and slightly to the side of the main sanctuary. The tabernacle is visible from both the chapel and the main sanctuary, a glass panel separates the two spaces; double doors left open let sound move freely. As a result, I can see and hear much of what is going on in the chapel, albeit at a bit of a remove.
I am finding these liminal moments a potent contemplation of what it might mean to be ex communio, outside the walls. Of what it might feel like to to watch and to wait. To see the light well up from within the darkness.