You may have noticed that each day of your journal includes the prompt: “Someone to silently thank…”
For some, this practice might feel natural — even comforting. For others, it may feel like a lot. You might wonder how you’ll possibly think of someone new each day. And on harder days, gratitude itself can feel distant.
If that’s how it feels, a little context may help.
The idea behind this daily prompt weaves together two concepts, both rooted in Buddhist teachings — but present in other philosophies and cultures, too.
The first is loving-kindness, or simply wishing well for others. In traditional practice, this begins with ourselves, then gently expands outward — to those we love, those we know, strangers, even those we struggle with. It’s not always easy, but over time, it softens our edges and helps us feel more connected. So when sending a silent thank you to someone, feel free to add a wish for wellbeing as well, such as “May you be happy.”
The second is interdependence — the understanding that our lives are quietly, constantly shaped by others. Sometimes in obvious ways, sometimes in ways we rarely notice.
Take your morning cup of coffee. It’s easy to overlook, but when we pause, we can trace the web of people involved in getting that cup to us:
The farmer who grew the coffee beans.
The workers who harvested them.
The people who transported them across oceans and borders.
The roasters who prepared them.
The grocer or café who stocked them.
The person who handed it to you this morning.
And that’s just one small moment in your day.
When we begin to notice the quiet, often invisible efforts of others — from the food we eat to the streets we walk to the technology we use — we start to see just how intertwined we all are. Gratitude, then, isn’t just about grand gestures or obvious relationships. It’s about pausing to acknowledge the countless people whose labor, care, and presence ripple into our lives, often unseen.
That’s what this simple prompt invites — a small, daily moment to notice connection. To thank someone — known or unknown, near or far — and in doing so, to remind yourself: you are not alone. You are part of something much larger, and it’s unfolding all around you.