Thanksgiving and the Bön Tsok offering ceremony come from vastly different worlds. One emerges from the agrarian and colonial history of North America, focused on family, gratitude, and the cycle of harvest. The other is an ancient Tibetan ritual feast rooted in the Bön spiritual tradition, in which food and drink are consecrated, offered to enlightened beings and unseen spirits, then shared among participants as blessed substances.
At first glance, they seem unrelated: one is largely secular and cultural, the other deeply spiritual and ritualized. But if we look closer, both center on the same impulse: gratitude, generosity, and the relationships that sustain life. When woven together into what we might call a Shared Tsok Thanksgiving, these two traditions amplify one another, transforming a meal into a sacred act of belonging.
In our ordinary meals, food is often something we consume. It is fuel, a product we acquire, prepare, and use. In Tsok, however, food is first and foremost an offering. Before anything is eaten, the entire meal is symbolically dedicated: to enlightened beings, to protector spirits, to nature, to the suffering of all beings, and to ancestors both recent and ancient.
In a Tsok Thanksgiving, imagine pausing before the meal, holding even a moment of silence or a short prayer:
“May this food nourish not only our bodies, but our hearts. May it be an offering to the earth, to those who came before, and to those yet to come.”
The shift is subtle but profound. A turkey becomes not just a roast bird but a symbol of life offered to life. A simple loaf of bread becomes a bridge to farmers, millers, truck drivers, and the soil itself. In Tsok, nothing is mundane; everything is sacred.
Both Tsok and Thanksgiving have deep ancestral dimensions. Thanksgiving, at least in its popular story, remembers early settlers and their first autumn feast, symbolizing survival and shared harvest. It has an underlying narrative of belonging to place, though often without fully acknowledging the Native peoples who inhabited that land long before.
Tsok expands the circle even further. Offerings are made not only to human ancestors but to nature spirits, protector deities, and all sentient beings. A Shared Tsok Thanksgiving might include:
A plate for ancestors – A small plate set aside on the table, perhaps with a candle or flower, to honor family who have passed.
Outdoor offerings – A portion of food taken outside after the meal, left as an offering to wildlife, birds, or simply to the spirit of place.
Acknowledgment of land – Naming the land and its original caretakers, remembering that our feast takes place within a larger story of human and ecological relationship.
These gestures invite us to remember: we do not eat alone. Every bite of food comes from a network of life and death, cooperation and history.
One of Tsok’s functions is healing—of individuals, of communities, and of the bonds that connect them. In many families, Thanksgiving is also about healing, whether explicitly or quietly: strained relationships, family members who rarely speak, generational rifts softened by food and togetherness.
A Tsok Thanksgiving can make this healing conscious. During the meal, each participant could name one quality they are grateful for in someone else at the table. Or the group could collectively dedicate the meal to someone who is struggling or absent. In Tsok, even leftovers are often blessed and shared beyond the immediate circle—mirroring the Thanksgiving tradition of delivering plates to neighbors or volunteering at community kitchens.
Food becomes medicine, not just for the body but for the heart. The feast becomes a mirror of our interconnectedness, a place where wounds can at least begin to be acknowledged, if not fully healed.
In Tsok, one does not simply take food; one receives it as a blessed substance. To receive is to admit interdependence—to acknowledge that we rely on one another and on the earth. In American culture, independence is often prized, yet Thanksgiving subtly challenges that ideal: we gather, we share, we feed one another.
A Shared Tsok Thanksgiving deepens this by recognizing that receiving is itself holy. To say “yes” when someone hands you a plate of food, to open your heart and belly to what has been offered, is to embody trust and belonging. Gratitude becomes more than a polite “thank you”—it becomes an act of being fully present to the moment, to the relationships unfolding at the table.
For those who wish to embody these principles in a practical way, here are some simple steps:
Prepare the Table as an Altar
Place a candle, flowers, or even a small bowl of water at the center.
Add something symbolic of ancestors or land—a stone, a photo, a sprig of local greenery.
Open with Offering and Dedication
Before eating, offer a short moment of silence, prayer, or chant. This could be as simple as:
“May this meal be an offering to all beings, an expression of gratitude for life, and a source of healing for those who suffer.”
Acknowledge Ancestors and Land
Verbally acknowledge the indigenous people of the region or name family ancestors.
If comfortable, set aside a small plate of food to place outside later.
Include Everyone in Gratitude
Invite each person to share one thing they are grateful for, or one relationship they cherish.
Consider dedicating the meal to someone not present or to a collective cause (e.g., peace, healing, the wellbeing of wildlife).
Share Food as Blessed Substance
Serve with mindfulness, passing dishes intentionally, receiving with appreciation.
Recognize that even humble dishes are symbols of life offered for life.
Close with Thanks and Sharing Outward
After the meal, take a small portion outside as an offering to nature.
If there are leftovers, consider delivering food to someone in need or to a neighbor.
These simple steps turn an ordinary holiday meal into a conscious ritual of connection, gratitude, and offering.
When Tsok and Thanksgiving meet, something unique emerges: a feast that honors not just family and history, but the entire web of life. Food becomes more than something to eat; it becomes a symbol of generosity, an offering that affirms our place in the world.
A Shared Tsok Thanksgiving is not about adopting a foreign religion or discarding cherished traditions. It is about deepening what is already present: the gratitude, the gathering, the impulse to give and to receive. It invites us to see ourselves not as isolated individuals but as participants in a vast mandala of life—one in which ancestors, land, family, and strangers all have a place at the table.
In a world often fractured by division, such feasts remind us of a simple truth: to offer is to belong, and to belong is to be alive.
chom den dé dé shyin sheg pa päl dzin la chag tsäl lo
chom den dé dé shyin sheg pa päl dzong la chag tsäl lo
chom den dé dé shyin sheg pa nam par röl nam pa chen pa la chag tsäl lo
ཨོ་ཨ་བི་ར་ཧྃ་ཁེ་ཙ་ར་མཾ་ས་ཧ།
OM AH BI RA HUNG KHE TSA RAM MUM SVAHA
repeat the mantra 7x, then blow on the meat/body
OM. The supreme form of the great King of Courage,
Having conquered the faults of the mountain of snow,
Dispels the karmic inclinations and obscurations of this ritual water,
That has been purely and cleanly arranged. This water:
Also, cleanses the gods of the upper realm,
Also, cleanses the nagas of the lower realm,
Also, cleanses the spirits of the middle realm,
Also, cleanses this altar, seat of the offerings,
Also, cleanses our clothes.
Also, all our offering substances become cleansed.
OM. The supreme form of the great King of Courage.
Collects the essence of the forest.
This attractive and fragrant scent,
That has been purely and cleanly arranged,
Also, purifies the gods of the upper realm.
Also, purifies the nagas of the lower realm.
Also, purifies the spirits of the middle realm.
Also, purifies this altar, seat of the offerings.
Also, purifies our clothes.
Also, all our offering substances become purified.