Rivers cut canyons, move logs and push Casino Boats downstream. They sustain life on their banks and riverbeds… and yet they are called lazy. Lazy happens to be my go-to shame-name that I call myself to goad me into doing whatever my boss-voice wants from me. Don’t be lazy!!! Get off the couch. Go do some work. Finish your to-do list. Etcetera. My foot dragging voice says, In a minute. I’ve been working all day. or SHUT U-U-U-P! 

Yes, I have a committee in my head. Don’t you? Recently however, I calmed all the voices in my mind and felt utterly relaxed flowing around in circles in the Lazy River at the Cabana Bay Beach Resort in Orlando, Florida. This is a pool that runs like a river, but in a circle, it has a light current, and the occasional waterfall or water drip feature to wet you from above.  You get a 47″ ring from the swim shop and you’re off. The promise of bliss awaits you.

I wanted nothing more than to be lazy, with permission. I believe my four experiences in the river speak volumes about who I am, how I get in my own way, and how to be lazy and effective at the same time.  Looking back I can see how these adventures meted themselves out.

Cabana Bay Beach ResortI was with my adultish kids, new to the resort, still feeling our way around. We each had our endlessly refillable resort cups in hand and sipped icy drinks as we made our way over to the Lazy River, as we’d seen on the resort map. We were happy just to be hot instead of freezing cold as we’d left behind 33-degree weather, and were basking in 86 sunny degrees.  We’d seen people with big tropical colored rings as they walked through the lobby and when we arrived, we saw rings next to all the lounge chairs.  I assumed, like the pool towels the rings were provided by the hotel. Also like the towels,  I assumed they might be in short supply. We had just endured an $82 breakfast that despite its cost was not better than dorm food, according to my college-age daughter. But ahhhh… the pool was going to make up for all that.

Interlude #1.

Poolside, we went to refill our cups and there I saw an abandoned ring. So we took it. Yay. We have a ring for the lazy river. Before we could even get our foot into the stream however, I noticed the ring had a name on it. Martinez. Ugh. I hadn’t meant to steal “someone’s” ring. Before long my son sees a family looking for their ring, chair by chair –  the Martinez family.  We had since found out that you have to buy the rings. Of course, I chased after them and asked the woman if she were Mrs. Martinez. Yes, she said. Sorry, we have your ring. We didn’t know you had to buy one. Then I asked if she would mind if I used it once on the Lazy River, and then returned it? The river was glorious! It was beautiful. It was everything. There I was lying in an innertube, floating without a care, letting the river do its lazy magic.

Upon my return, I said to my daughter, that was great and I was buying us three rings immediately.  My daughter asked if it was worth breaking a poor kid’s heart? Ouch. I didn’t realize the 10 year-old Martinez boy had to stand in the sun and wait 10 minutes for his ring back. I felt horrible. I wanted in, but I didn’t want to pay my way. But I cheaped out yet another time and got smaller rings. So, instead of floating in heaven, I spent the next half hour adjusting, legs dangling, half-walking my way around the river. Icky. Except I had the jolly company of my wisecrackin’ kids, and it was fun. After that tour around, we upgraded our tubes to the full sized 47″ bed of an innertube.

The moral: Half-measures don’t work magic. (You probably thought it was going to be about stealing, huh? But as I said, I didn’t realize at the time.)

Interlude #2

By 10pm that same day, my husband and third kid arrived, and we’d retrieved them from the airport. The Lazy River was open until 11pm, so I rushed them all over there to float in peace in the night air. We all hopped into our air-chairs and began to float in the circle of love. The night air was warm. The river was lined with palm trees and colorful tropical plants. The hotel’s neon sign said “Americana” in retro script, atop a gleaming building. It was so beautiful that its images are permanently banked in my mind for the future – for whenever I need calm and beauty. It is my new happy place.

Interlude #3

The next day we headed over to Universal Studios park and walked till our legs were about to drop off. Unlike my adultish kids, my husband and I went over early. By 4pm, I was ready to die. I wanted to go back to the hotel and relax for a couple of hours. No one else felt the same need, so I stumped my tired legs through the exit, onto the shuttle and into my bed. After about 15 minutes though, the lazy river floated into my ideas. I remembered the glorious peace and beauty of the night before and I got up, got my bathing suit on, and walked to the Lazy River, where I promptly plunked my body and more importantly my feet into the warm inviting water. I could feel progress as my feet returned to normal and my legs regained their energy. I floated around 4 times, each time asking one of the lifeguards for the time, so I could return to the park by 6ish, and meet my family for dinner. Is it lazy to heal? The river says no. Can you relax within a timeframe? On the lazy river each minute heals like five. Relaxing is your work.

By the time I got back to the park, my kids’ texts said they were exhausted and uninterested in dinner. That left me in the park alone to enjoy the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at night. Another immersive and beautiful place to float around in.

Interlude #4

Next day and everyone is tired, cranky and no one wants to do anything much. Of course hubby and I are up early and we eat again at the Bayliner Diner. Too much food – too little taste. Once the kids are up, they’re hungry, and somehow we decide to go out for breakfast for them. After about an hour of disagreement and discord, we pull into an Ihop and overeat. In the midst of all of this accommodating, my kids are retelling the story of my ignoring social rules. I moved my lounge chair out of line to be more in the shade. I borrowed that poor family’s ring. I’m just crazy and weird. You are! they insist when I push back a little. Somehow, I’ve let them become the Mom police. And in fairness to them, they are teasing lovingly. Humor is the coin of the realm in our family. Yes, I’m a bit non-conformist, but I hope, at least in my own family, I can be loved for that wackiness. I’m sure I did all the things they accuse me of and more. But my feelings are hurt.

Also, stubbornness runs in the family. We are ALL right. Once in a while, i just want respect because I’m the mom. Because I’m paying for this trip. For whatever rationale I can think of. Because I’m bigger than you. Nope. The kids don’t want to let housekeeping into the room. They don’t want their mess disturbed. Guess what – I want the room put back together each day.  All of this mounts – the conflict about how neat to keep the room, the wasted time, the heat, the wandering around with minimal reward, but most of all the teasing.

I turn to the lazy river again. I flop in alone. Before long tears flow. I’m wearing sunglasses, so no one has to know. I need to feel my feelings, even if I don’t choose to share them. I breathe deeply and basically meditate. I feel all the bottled up emotions – anger, frustration, guilt and disappointment. In any other setting, my tears would have become a vacation-ruiner, a story my kids would tell to their therapists decades later. Here, the lazy river accepts the salty water as its own, and I float back to a state of equilibrium.

You can never step into the same lazy river twice. My times on the river taught me interesting things about myself. I achieved much on that 47″ tube – first: a caution not to shortcut yourself or steal anyone else’s stuff, and a sense of deserving; second: beauty and peace. And third: a place to heal my body, and fourth: my mind, as I floated in my feelings and released them. It was lazy magic.