A couple of years ago I posted about a gratitude jar. The jar I’d begun using became needed elsewhere, so I took all those little slips of paper, and placed them in an empty Voluspa jar. Last December, I sat down in the middle of my bed with the jar, and read each one.

I remembered cutting paper into strips, writing something I was grateful for, and placing it in the jar. The jar wasn’t very full, because walking by it isn’t enough. I have to pause long enough to write something down. It’s funny, but I was the most grateful for sunlight. The unfolding of each piece of paper and reading what it said, felt like a ritual. I refolded each one and placed them in a baggie for the jar to be used as a vase.

One of my most loved books by Julia Cameron is The Sound of Paper. I don’t know which I love more, the book itself, or it’s title, because I’m enamored by the sound and feel of paper. I want to experience that year-end ritual again, so I started a new jar, in hopes that by this December it will be packed full. The key is to sit it where it doesn’t fall into the background of the everyday, so it’s by my bedroom window waiting, every time I enter.

Here’s some examples of how often I see this jar.

• First thing in the morning, while opening the drapes.
• When I walk back in to make my bed.
• Sitting on the floor, during meditation.
• When I pet the cat who’s lounging in the morning sun.
• To plug in my phone for charging.
• While getting dressed, or anytime I retrieve something from the closet.
• Anytime I’m in my room gazing out the window, the jar is there.
• Running the vacuum through the room.
• Closing the drapes at nightfall.

Some days I’m overwhelmed by goodness, while other days, I need a magnifying glass to see it. No matter if it’s a lot, or just one thing, there’s always something to write on a sliver of paper and place it in the jar.

Pause… breathe… and acknowledge the good.