Like A Room Without A Roof
“Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof.” (Because I’m happy)
That’s a lyric from the mondo hit “Happy” by Pharrell Williams. Which I sing…at the top of my lungs…in…my…car. Yep that’s me next to you on the 101 fwy. Deal with it, or better yet, sing along.
That’s my favorite lyric because it brings so many things to mind:
1) I freaking love to sing loudly in the car, with the sunroof open, with complete abandon. THAT makes me happy, AND it’s a car without a roof. Close enough.
2) It’s from the movie Despicable Me 2, which I LOVE. My husband IS Gru, ask anyone. Gruff exterior with a sweet, soft, gooey caramel inside.
I want a minion…badly. To speak their gibberish to me, make me laugh and carry out all my evil deeds.
3) I embrace the thought that happiness can be uncontainable. That you can have such moments of bliss that your energy is too big to hold together. I’ve talked about it before, I believe that when we are non-physical we are enormous, without limits. So, to be able to capture a moment here and there of that limitless feeling, through happiness…I’ll take it!
4) I had an experience with a shaman, back in the day, of remembering a past life as an initiate in ancient Egypt. In that life, I was a young girl, around 10-11 years old. In the Egyptian mystery schools they would put us through a series of initiations. I had lived in the Temple since I was a very small child. We were all intuitive and studied ancient spells and magic. If we passed our initiations, we would continue on to the next level. If we failed we …died. OUCH. Those damn Egyptians weren’t as freaked out by death as we are now. It was just the next adventure, so to them it was a win, win.
I was put in a ten foot by ten foot stone “room” with a dirt floor. The objective was to get out. I was given no food, no water, and no clues.
Once the stone door was closed the room was pitch black. Like blink your eyes, and they still don’t adjust, can’t see your own hand in front of your face black. I experienced great fear, with the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. For many, many hours I just laid balled up in a corner, after halfheartedly feeling my way around. It felt like all hope was lost. I felt for a way to open the door, but I couldn’t fit my tiny fingers into the seams where it met the wall, they were that tight. I don’t remember the ancient Egyptian word for “I’m screwed”, but I’m sure I was saying it over and over in my head. I gave up, forgot my magic and slept a lot.
After what seemed like a couple of days, I got a sudden spike of determination and courage. A second wind. Really it was a first wind and was like a lightbulb went off over my head…almost literally. It felt like I could “see” the solution in my mind’s eye.
I crawled along, feeling every inch of the floor for a trap door. Nothing. I felt the cold stone walls for any clue of a lever, or a latch. Nothing. In a moment of despair, I laid flat on my back looking up into the darkness.
“Help me” I whispered.
What about the ceiling?
Now, with a different objective in mind, I felt the walls for a place to hold onto in order to make the climb up. After hours of running my forearms up and down the walls, I felt small bits of stone protruding. It was not an easy climb, even for a 10 year old spider monkey, and I still couldn’t see a thing, but the ceiling wasn’t that high, maybe 8-9 feet. As I strained to push my open hand against it….it moved. It was a fairly lightweight panel that with a good shove could be moved up and open to freedom. A room without a roof.
You wanna know what happened next? Nothing. There was no one there to say good job, or care that I made it out alive. That was the nature of the game.
I walked toward a faint light in the distance to look for water and something to eat. It hurt my eyes.
So…a room without a roof.
I try to remember that experience, when I think my back is up against the wall, with diminishing options.
Think outside the box. Look up. People never think to look up.
You may be in a room without a roof. Climb out.
What does “room without a roof” mean to you? Do you share my passion for singing in the car? Come on! Fess up in the comments below.