What a Lazy River Taught Me About Trust, Regulation, and Why Your Brain Hates NOT Knowing What's Next

I'm sitting in a hotel room in Arizona right now, sunburned in the exact same spots I apparently forget to sunscreen every single time (this happens every year and I still haven't learned), and my kids are finally winding down after a full day of sun, chlorine and snacks that somehow always end up on the floor in places snacks have no business being (IYKYK!). 

Earlier today, my husband took all three kids upstairs and left me alone at the lazy river, which sounds like an absolute dream, time (and body) to myself, RIP to my chest, breastfeeding moms know.

I should have been in HEAVEN. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN RELAXED.

Instead, I got into that tube, tilted my head back, and tried to enjoy one single lap around the lazy river. And I could. Not. Relax.

There were bumps I didn't see coming. There were inner tube traffic jams. There was me, gripping the sides of my tube like my life depended on it, bracing for impact that never came. 

"So sorry. Sorry! So sorry." Meanwhile, everyone else was floating by half asleep, not a care in the world, and I was watching them with actual envy wondering how they were just letting this happen to them without losing their mind.

The Part That Followed Me Out of the Pool and Into This Hotel Room

Here's what I cannot stop thinking about and honestly, it's kind of wild how much this connects to what I see with my clients (and yours) every single day. We have the client who cannot relax into a stretch because they're already bracing for it to hurt before it even happens. We have the one who apologizes for their body the second they lose their balance, like their body personally wronged everyone around them. We have the one who white-knuckles a movement they've literally done a hundred times because their brain still hasn't decided it's safe enough to let go.

And you know exactly what to do for them because you slow it down, you create more certainty, you give their nervous system actual evidence that they're safe before asking for more output. But here's the harder question that I think about more than I probably should: where are you doing the exact same thing to yourself?

Why Your Brain Does This (And It's Not Your Fault)

Your brain absolutely loves, L-O-V-E-S, prediction and knowing what's coming next, which isn't a personality flaw or a sign that you're dramatic, it's your brain's actual job. Certainty conserves resources and keeps you moving efficiently through the world while uncertainty forces the brain to spend more energy monitoring for threats. That's why completely harmless uncertainty, like a bump on a lazy river or a client asking a question you weren't expecting, can still register as a threat when your nervous system doesn't have enough evidence yet that the uncertainty is actually safe.

Your brain is doing exactly what it's supposed to do: trying to protect you, even when there's literally nothing to protect you from. My nervous system had no evidence that a bump on the lazy river was survivable, so it defaulted to bracing and apologizing its way through the whole experience.

Something You Can Practice Today

No lazy river required, LOL, though honestly if you want to use one as your practice ground, I'm not mad about it. Choose one small, low-stakes moment where the outcome truly doesn't matter and I'm talking really small here, like genuinely insignificant. Take a different route home. Order something you've never tried at a restaurant. Let a client lead the conversation for a minute without immediately steering it back where you think it needs to go. Just do something slightly different and then notice what happens inside your body.

Notice the urge to control the moment or fix it or rush it or apologize your way through it, and then let it happen anyway. That's the whole practice, that's it. Small, safe doses of unpredictability are how we teach a nervous system that uncertainty doesn't automatically equal danger. It's the exact same principle you already use with clients, just turned inward on yourself for once. Here we are during our staycation.

Where Do You Catch Yourself Doing This?

I'd love to know where your version of "so sorry, so sorry" lives because I promise you have one. In your body, with a client, in your business, in conversations with people you care about, wherever it shows up for you, it matters. 

That's the real work, isn't it? Teaching ourselves the same things we teach everyone else.

I love you, you got this!

Missy 💙

P.S. I am STILL thinking about how I couldn’t relax during ONE lap around the lazy river and I am working on it every single day.