Supply Chain

Source is something I think about a lot.

Maybe I’m an oddity in this department, but when I drink my coffee in the morning—or push my cart through the produce section—I’m always wondering: where did this come from? How did it get here?

Did it grow in a greenhouse or an open field? Was it sprayed with chemicals or grown among a tangle of companion plants? Did human hands pick it, or was it a machine? Who processed it? How many miles did it travel to reach me—across an ocean, then onto a truck, then into this store?

These thoughts usually come with a familiar ache. A lament about how far we’ve gotten from source. I go home and work in my garden with renewed intensity, trying to shrink the supply chain, fueled by the desire to feel more connected to what sustains me.

But a friend said something the other day that flipped the script.

What if, instead of lament, I offered gratitude?

What if I gave thanks—

For the farmer who grew this food.

For the hands that picked it at just the right moment,

For the people who processed it, roasted it, packaged it with care.

For the driver who brought it hundreds of miles so it could end up in my kitchen.

For the person who stocked the shelf at 6 AM before I even woke up.

When I do this, something shifts. My shoulders drop. My breathing slows. I can feel my heart rate settle.

So many people worked to give me this one cup of coffee. It’s passed through so many different hands, each offering their own little piece of energy to bring me my perfect cup o’ joe.

I still tend my garden. I still care about knowing where things come from. But now I also get to hold my morning cup and feel genuinely grateful for all the people who brought it here.

So here’s my quiet invitation: pick one thing today. Your lunch, your afternoon tea, the apple you grab as a snack. Trace it backward through all the hands that touched it, giving thanks for each one. See if anything shifts for you.