Greta GerwigA few different things fell into place this week. It was a nice bit of alignment, a kind of 'yeah, OK' moment. It started late last month when I re-watched Noah Baumbach's Frances Ha and thought about how much I had liked it. I liked it for a lot of reasons - not in the least because of New York City and all that beautiful cinematography - but mainly because of the fragment it was. I like stories that just take a piece, a small glimpse at someone's life. Intimate more than sweeping. And the arch of this story was lovely and sad and sweet and funny and in parts very normal. I loved the character and thought Greta Gerwig played just the right amount of smart and fragile and quirky, never overdone. It made me remember how glad I am that I'm not 27 anymore.

And then on Monday I came across Chloe's blog and really liked her review - how she could watch Frances run through the streets forever. I loved that scene too, it felt so light and strong at the same time. Full of grace and heart and a wonderful sense of not-giving-a-damn.

Which brings me to last night and the crazy-big storm that swept Sydney. The afternoon had been coming across all dark and moody, then promptly got hit by a torrential amount of rain just as I left the office. I got a bus halfway to my yoga studio and, in my sneakers and yoga pants, backpack on tight, giggled like hell as I ran the remaining few blocks. There was a bit of uncertainty as I climbed off the bus, with people squealed and huddled under awnings and in doorways (it was flash-flood, drains-blocked cats and dogs heavy rain), before I realised that I actually didn't care. The worst that could happen was I'd get wet, and that was fine. That was actually kind of fun. So I just went with it. And there was a moment as I was crossing Albion St and leaping over rather a large puddle that I thought about Frances Ha, about her running through New York and it being beautiful. And I thought how lucky I was that I remembered my sneakers but not my umbrella, that I was healthy and able to run and jump, that I had nothing of consequence to dampen my spirits.

And after all that, resting before class and setting our intentions, my yoga instructor Persia went ahead and made my night. She has a habit of reading things so beautifully, and spoke to us about the rain and water. Well obviously she did, it was still pouring down outside, but it was more how she framed it. She reminded us that we're mostly water, that water makes up our very being and is the life force that drives creativity and passion and we should embrace that. She put together a sequence of poses that had amazing flow and worked at supporting us to let things go. And I really have some things to let go. It was the closest I've felt to that for a while, to washing away all of the heartache and tension and feeling my best.

What I'm saying in a round-about way is last night was good.