I was surprised by what brought me joy in 2024. But I have the evidence

A year ago, almost to the day, I watched an online video that suggested placing a small note inside a jar each week for a year would be an uplifting experience. It required you to write on each note something that had occurred that week that brought you joy. So began my “jar of joy” for 2024.

My “jar of joy” at the beginning of 2024.

Each Sunday last year, I reflected upon my week and added another folded memory to the jar. On New Year’s Eve, I reached in and read each note, and the evidence was indisputable. Overwhelmingly what brought me joy in 2024 was connecting with people. Repeatedly I’d written about the joy of meeting, walking, travelling, and sharing experiences with others.

Notably absent from the little coloured slips of paper were possessions. We bought a new car last year, but apparently that didn’t bring me as much joy as a friend teaching me to crochet a bag, or feeling elated my husband and son were spending a weekend away together.

Wholesome, right? I would love to leave it here and change my name to Pollyanna, but I don’t want to be responsible for your unrealistic expectations should you be rummaging around your cupboard for a jar, paper and pen right now.

You see, this was also the year my family, which includes my husband and three children all over 25 years of age, embarked on a mega trip overseas that included visiting extended family, walking in Spain and ending with a wedding in Greece.

Equal parts intelligence and emotion, we are a family for whom the latter can override the first when we are together and put under pressure.

Like the pressure of navigating airports late at night with little sleep and finding you are in the wrong terminal. The pressure of remembering every grievance you have had with your family since the dawn of time and choosing to relive the highlights in the middle of a 20-kilometre hike.

The privilege of taking such a long overseas trip with our family weighed heavily on my mind as I ran interference, deflected jibes and tried to divert potential train wrecks into nearby cafes, bars, or ice cream shops. It did occur to me that we could have done this for a fraction of the cost in a cabin at any coastal caravan park back home.

Where there should have been 52 notes in my “jar of joy” there were only 45 as I had summarised the two months we were away into one. It said: “Everyone has returned to their home base safely from an amazing trip to Europe. There were many wonderful and challenging moments, but we all started, and we all finished.”

...and on New Year’s Eve, when I emptied it and relived my joyful moments.

The fragility of family relationships was echoed in other notes from the year, too. Both my girls being present when one tried on her wedding dress was a pinch-me-now moment. Hubby and I laughing at the absurdity of Christmas carols blasting through the stereo as we assembled our fiddly Christmas tree was equally a highlight. Clearly, my expectations were more chalk outline, crime scene drama, but these tender family moments were note- and jar-worthy.

As the theme of human connection was obvious in my jar, the subtlety of reconnection where discontent has been a well-worn trope was the most joyous thing of all. That my family of beautiful, bright and emotionally charged individuals started our epic trip together was special. That we finished together, even more so.

You see we all lead different lives with competing wants, needs and time constraints, but there was enough connection and bond to commit and make this trip happen. Afterwards, no one blocked their phone, changed identity, or emancipated themselves from the family. When we look at the photos and talk about the trip, the moments of joy rise to the surface and those are the memories that will prevail.

Did the “jar of joy” deliver on its promised uplifting experience? Not even close, but I’m going to empty it anyway and starting Sunday, I will write and fold my first note for the 2025 jar. Join me?

Jo Pybus is a freelance writer.