I lost my contact lens at the yoga studio the other night.

This might not seem like the end of the world but for me, it's a bit of an issue. Without special hard contacts I can barely see - so if you've ever seen me in a yoga class that I'm not teaching and I don't smile or wave at you, I'm not avoiding you, promise! It fell somewhere as I was taking it out of it's case, which is pretty inconvenient in a busy yoga studio on a Monday night in-between classes. People everywhere. Imagine looking for a needle in a haystack. Only it's a really expensive custom made needle that you're supposed to use everyday for a year or two. Oops.

Two of the sweet girls working the desk that night were on their hands and knees scouring the floor with me. When I explained that it wasn't a daily but a pretty special custom made lens, one of them looked at me and asked how I was being so chill about it.

I explained that the contact was already missing so there's really no use in me getting upset about it. I obviously wasn't bouncing off the walls and cheering, but it really wouldn't help my cause of trying to find the missing contact if I let myself get worked up about it. Remember - this was right after I practiced - 'Zen Jenn' was out in full force.

I spent last weekend with 51 amazing students who attended the first PYC Muskoka Yoga Retreat of the season. A lot of our time in meditation and practice was spent bringing more awareness to what our mind is naturally drawn to and with that, deciding if we need to set the intention to focus on something else. 

In theory, a boathouse yoga studio is filled with the perfect sounds to fuel your practice. Birds chirping. Water lapping. Wind rustling.  It sounds pretty dreamy doesn't it?

In reality, there's lots of other sounds. Machinery helping the boys work hard at the marina. Boats pulling up for gas with music blasting through their speakers - sometimes it's Van other times it's Gangsta Rap. Kids shouting that they've finally found a frog. The pounding of a hammer fixing something at a cottage across the way.

You never really know what you're going to get on any given day. 
It's a completely uncontrollable environment. 
And I wouldn't have it any other way.

I leave London tomorrow. 

And like I've felt about a lot of things this year, I have very mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I'm so excited and ready to hit the ground running with PYC Muskoka. On the other hand, I'm actually surprised at how sad I feel to be leaving here. I guess I should clarify, I'm not at all surprised by the fact that I'm sad to leave Mike, that's a given. But I'm sad to leave our little home. I'm not sure when it happened but somewhere along the way this year, I actually settled in. It took longer than I thought it would and there were moments that I wasn't sold on this whole London life but now I'm already excited to head back here in the fall. 

I'm a big believer in pausing to reflect on big life experiences and how they've helped me grow. I can thank the overanalyzing, deeply emotional side of me for that. It feels like I blinked and this year abroad is over, but looking back, there are several key things I'm taking away that can be applied to anyone's life, whether you're living on the same street you've been in since you were born or are about to embark on a big life adventure. 

There I was strolling down Regent Street after a class at Psycle London. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about commuting in this city, it’s that patience doesn't exist and walking down any crowded street is a little like survival of the fittest - may the most aggressive Londoner win.

But this morning I didn't have my game face on. I was in no rush and so distracted by my free smoothie for hitting the milestone of 25 rides that I almost didn't see him coming until I'd already been bumped. Actually more like body checked, in the arm so hard by a man in a very nice blue suit that my smoothie went flying. He was moving so fast that it took him a few strides to even turn around to see me crouched on the sidewalk collecting my cup and leaving the remnants of my smoothie reward splattered all over the street. 

I had a serious moment of hesitation shortly after I published last weeks post, What Makes You Happy? I shared it with the world and then went to the kitchen to tackle the piled up dishes before going to bed. I was scrubbing away at a pan when I started overanalyzing this blog, my writing and what it is exactly that I'm trying to share with you.

I started worrying that I might be coming off as 'preachy' with these posts.

Come on, the girl who has never had a corporate job, has lived a really blessed life and hasn't even hit 30 (that's coming up fast ha) somehow thinks she knows how I should live my life. Cue the eye roll. I'm with you! According to Urban Dictionary "the cut and dry definition of preachy is a term used to describe a person who is more times than not, giving advice in an irritating...or overbearing way." You know, those people that try to shove their ideas down your throat.

My approach to happiness is a lot like cooking - and come to think of it, I'm a lot better at cooking up happiness than anything else I've tried. I know that there are several key ingredients that I need to whip some 'happy' into my life. When I get the recipe right, I feel great. When one of the ingredients is missing, I feel myself start to slip.  

I'm not shy about the mental health struggles I've had in the past. I've shared plenty of times on this blog that for a long time - the first 20 years of my life to be exact - just 'being happy' was something that felt really hard for me.

I should probably clarify that when I talk about happiness in this post I don't mean the over the top kind where you're smiling ear-to-ear and super jazzed on life. That kind of joy is the absolute best when it feels natural but I don't think it's realistic to expect that all the time. I'm talking about the peace of feeling content with whatever life looks like right now - even as it unfolds around you and things inevitably don't go as planned. 

If they could see me now.

This thought - or tune if you were ever a musical theatre nerd like me - pops into my head every so often. It’s always during the moments of my life when I’m being triggered. Whatever I’m feeling - frustrated, upset, angry, overwhelmed, anxious - is beyond the the point. For the purpose of this post you just need to know that in those moments I’m the opposite of a yoga teacher.

Truth be told, I can be kind of a jerk.

When these moments strike, I could think of myself as a hypocrite for encouraging my students to respond instead of react when apparently at times, I can’t. But I don’t. I know at the end of the day, no matter how many hours I spend on a yoga mat developing the tools that I love to share with you, I’m human. And I react - unfortunately, not always in the best way.

I’ve been out of routine and out of my writing groove for the last few weeks. Luckily, organized, Type-A Jenn predicted this would happen with the travel I had planned and got some posts prepared ahead of time just in case I didn’t feel inspired to write while I was away. But of course, the posts ran out. 

And now here I am trying to let the words flow after a stretch of time living life and visiting with many different people that I love dearly. It’s been a while since I’ve thought about what to share with you and in trying to come up with something worthy to say, I can't really seem to find any words to pour onto this page.

It's funny isn't it. When we think too much, try too hard, we're actually working against ourselves. Life as a writer, yoga teacher, really whatever it is you do, becomes so much more difficult when you're trying to please people and prove yourself to the world.