Awakening the Soul in the Bathroom

This story's been waiting since April to be written. It's about the time I got locked  inside my friend's bathroom when nobody else was home, and how between my attempts to get out I did things like practice Sheng Zhen Gong, and take a shower.

The story goes like this:

I was up in Anacortes for the weekend to teach a Happiness Qigong workshop at the Anacortes Center for Happiness, give massages at the Samish Nation Health Fair, and to spend a night in my vacant house that was on the market.

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The qigong workshop was fun, and spending a night alone in my house after so many months of renting it out and not living there, was quite nice. A good reunion. Didn't sleep so well, but ended up having plenty of down time at the health fair the next day. 

After the fair, I called Laura a bit after 2 to check in about coming over for a visit. I said I might go for a walk first, or come over first. She said to do whatever I wanted and to just come in, not ring the bell.

I contemplated my desire to be outside, by the water, in the woods, in the sun. I decided to go for a walk first, and then I could go to Laura’s to write. I’d really been wanting to write; being in my house now that my tenants had moved out was bringing up all kinds of memories and creative inspiration. But first, a walk.

With a huge can of coconut water in hand, I went for a walk out to the marina. It was nice. I ran into an old client, and our conversation inspired to write specifically about leaving Anacortes. And when I returned home, that’s what I did. Two pages, single spaced. And then I went to Laura’s.

Before leaving home, I contemplated calling to see if she was still around, since now it was close to 3:30. I decided not to bother calling, and as I got in my car, I realized I really had to pee and almost went back into the house, but instead just zipped on over to her house, not far from mine.

When I arrived, her car was there. When I walked up to the door, there was a note that said “gone for a walk up the street.”

I entered the house and heard voices, thinking the boys must be home, or maybe even Laura and she’d just forgotten to remove the note. But it was just the t.v. A movie actually. A strange one, and so I turned it off. I walked through the house to see if anyone was home. Seemed as if nobody was there. I set down my bag and my laptop on the kitchen table, looking outside excited to go sit out on the deck and write. I’d come up with a good line to add to my earlier writing. But first thing's first: the bathroom.

I went in to the bathroom and noticed that the doorknob was missing, but not completely.  The inner workings of it were there, but the knob was not. I hesitated a bit puzzled, and then shut the door. Completely. Til it clicked. I relieved my oh so full bladder, washed my hands, turned towards the door, put my fingers into the hole where the knob had been and pulled. Nothing happened. I pushed. Nothing happened. I tried jiggling it around. Nothing jiggled.

“Oh shit!” My eyes widened and I burst out laughing. I was locked in. And I didn’t have my phone. And nobody was home.

I figured Laura would be home soon, as her note said she’d just gone up the street. I wondered though if that really meant up the street to another street to a big long trail, a place I’d love to go after doing some writing actually. I found myself laughing at the situation and happy to not be claustrophobic. And glad I’d turned off that movie.

First I decided to just sit myself down and practice some qigong, Awakening the Soul, on the toilet. I recited the contemplations out loud, happy to have memorized the majority of them. And then, when I was done, still nobody home, I decided to try to figure out how to get out of the bathroom. There had to be a way.

I found a bobby pin and unfolded it. I tinkered around with the inner workings of what used to have a knob attached to it. I had an idea of the mechanics and thought I knew what needed to be done, but just needed the right tool. The bobby pin didn’t work. I tried a pencil. And then I gave up.

I read a catalog. Or two.

I decided to take a shower. I hadn’t taken one in the morning, so why not take one now? There were clean, colorful towels folded up, just waiting to be used.

So I got undressed, and then I opened the sliding shower door and saw that the hot water knob was missing. I tested it out to make sure I could turn it on and off. No problem there. But then the cold water knob didn’t seem to be working.

I put my clothes back on and decided to shake. Bioenergy Shaking. Still entertained by this whole scenario. Oh, and I forgot to mention that right before I thought about taking a shower the doorbell rang a few times. I knew the door was unlocked, and I thought about calling out to ask whoever it was to come in. But having no clue who it was, I decided against it. What if it was someone who would burglarize the house? Clearly I wasn't thinking clearly. Why would a burglar ring the bell in the middle of the afternoon, and then not even try the door knob?

So I tried to get the door open again by wrapping something around the pencil to make it thicker and hopefully turn the thing that I thought needed turning. Didn’t work. 

I could hear kids playing outside. Thought maybe they were home but hadn't come in yet. So I yelled out for help. Nothing.

Mostly I was amused, but there were definitely a few small and short waves of irritation and upset that swept through me. So I repeated some mantras. I attempted communicating with Laura telepathically. I tried my luck as a lock picker again. No luck though.

So I considered more qigong or meditation, but decided to try the shower again instead. Surely Laura and her family had been showering; this one had to be easier to figure out. I tried the cold water knob again, turning it by holding on in a slightly different place, and it worked! So I got undressed again, and took a shower.

After the shower, still nobody home. What to do? I thought about painting my nails. Instead I looked at the puzzle of the knobless knob from a different angle. I decided to try poking at this thing from below, and to my pleasant surprise it finally worked. Super easy. Super fast. I was free! Free at last.

It was 4:34 when I left the bathroom. I’m guessing I was in there for about an hour.

I called Laura and heard her phone ring right there nearby. She'd left her cell phone at home. 

Before I could even gather up my laptop to go outside, she and her boys arrived. And before she even got up the stairs to see me, she called out, "Were you locked in the bathroom?"

It had happened yesterday to her boyfriend's son as well. Laura was mortified, but I assured her that it was actually pretty funny and entertaining. And then her boyfriend's son, who had attended my Happiness Qigong class the previous night, said something to the effect of, "it's like you said; find the humor in the challenges." 

In a sense, getting locked in that bathroom was a gift. And although this might not be the perfect telling of the story, conveying all that I experienced, it is right up there in my memory as one of the best, funniest stories/experiences ever. Plus,  I learned how to open a door with no knob. So, thank you, Laura! Your bathroom will forever have a special place in my heart; it was truly a joy and a pleasure awakening my soul in there. In addition to being funny, it was quite a rewarding practice in being present and remaining (for the most part) calm, and trusting, really knowing and trusting, even when timing is beyond my control, that all will be well; all is well.

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.