As the autumn light softens and we gather around the table, it’s natural to pause and reflect – not just on what we are grateful for, but on the very act of nourishing ourselves. In this quiet moment, we might ask ourselves…

Is it food—or just chemicals? Can we truly call it “food”? I had a profound epiphany when I listened to an Indigenous leader explain that in their culture, they don’t call it food—they call it a relationship.

I began to wonder: what if we approached what we eat, and how we eat, as a relationship with the items themselves? What if nourishment wasn’t just about stuffing ourselves, indulging, or measuring portions, but about cultivating a conscious connection with what we take in?

Food, in this sense, isn’t just something we swallow—it becomes part of who we are. Just like in a relationship with another person, we absorb their energy, their essence, and carry it within us. Even when they’re not physically present, the memory, the conversation, the hug—we continue to relate to them. Why shouldn’t it be the same with what we eat?

Everything we consume—air, food, experiences, media, even the people we meet—becomes part of us. If we approach it with attention, respect, and care, we transform consumption into a conscious, honoring act. In many Indigenous cultures, this perspective isn’t new—it’s central to their way of being. For us, it might feel revolutionary, but it holds the potential for profound transformation in how we experience nourishment, nutrition, and even life itself.

Can you imagine having a relationship with that piece of turkey on your plate? Indigenous traditions teach us to honor, respect, and thank the animal for sacrificing its life so we may live. This is the essence of Thanksgiving—a sentiment largely lost in modern culture. Imagine if we extended that respect not just to animals, but to the plants, the earth, and all that provides sustenance.

It starts far earlier in the chain than just what lands on your plate. By learning about, honoring, and respecting nature, we awaken to a deeper appreciation—not only of our food, but of ourselves, of others, and of life itself.

This Thanksgiving, I invite you to pause. To honor what you eat. To cultivate a relationship with your food, and with all life that surrounds you—friends, family, pets, and the beautiful table before you. Let your gratitude flow from your heart down to your cells.

Let’s also remember the hidden effects of a “digital diet,” which can affect digestion and overall well-being. Shift the focus from mere consumption to respect, appreciation, reverence, and gratitude. This, I believe, is the true essence of Thanksgiving.

May your celebration be rich, noble, and filled with respect—for life, for those around you, and for the sacred nourishment that sustains you.