Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I’m struck by how quickly the year has passed. Of all our holidays, this is the one that most clearly asks us to pause and look back. If New Year’s is for resolutions and plans, Thanksgiving is for remembering, reflecting and recognizing how we arrived at this moment.

It also can’t be a coincidence that a holiday of gratitude comes just before the season of gift-giving.

Many people complain — often with good reason — that the winter holidays have become overly commercialized. Thanksgiving, though, largely escapes that criticism. Aside from the food industry, there isn’t much profit to be made. At its best, Thanksgiving is still about people gathering, sharing food and expressing thanks.

This year I plan to spend the day with new friends I haven’t met yet, which feels fitting. It matches the personal theme of my year: slowly getting to know more people in this beautiful community and learning how to belong here.

The older I get, the more important Thanksgiving becomes. It serves as a yearly reminder of something I should practice daily: gratitude. Most people here don’t know me well yet, but those who do know that I practice Buddhism.

A core aspect of that practice is mindfulness — a steady, observant awareness of both present experience and past causes. Mindfulness naturally leads to gratitude; it shows us how interconnected our lives are and helps keep our emotions balanced.

A few years ago, I worked as a substance use disorder counselor. I facilitated group sessions twice a day and met with clients individually. Over and over, I emphasized gratitude and mindfulness. I saw that when people drifted from awareness, they were more likely to act selfishly or impulsively in ways that hurt themselves and others. That’s not unique to people in treatment; it’s a universal human tendency.

In groups, I often asked clients to look at their clothing — shirts, pants, shoes, socks — and really think about what they represented. With just a bit of effort, you can see the outline of humanity in those ordinary objects.

Each item you wear reflects someone else’s livelihood. Behind that shirt is an entire chain of people and industries. The cotton grew in soil prepared by a farmer. Rain and sun nourished the plants. Workers harvested the crop. Others processed it into fiber, spun it into thread and wove it into fabric. Designers and sewing machine operators turned that fabric into clothing. Drivers and deckhands transported it. Store employees stocked and sold it. With the slightest imagination, you can see the children of many families being fed because you bought a shirt or a pair of socks.

Everywhere we go, our thoughts become actions, and our actions send ripples through other lives, like a stone dropped in water. We may not control every outcome, but we do choose the kind of ripples we create.

As I look over this past year with mindfulness, I feel deeply grateful. I’m thankful that Larry took a chance on a reporter from redneck central in Southeast Missouri. His decision gave me more than a job; it brought me to this island community, where I’ve met generous people and found a way of life that suits me.

This place keeps me present. I’m not anxious about what’s ahead, and I’m grateful for every twist in my past that led me here. With sincere gratitude, I wish you all happy holidays.

Thank you for welcoming me and reminding me that separation is an illusion. We’re all in this together — and for that, I am truly thankful.