Positive Vibes

There is a a Senator (the first elected Rastafarian in the territories) here on Island. His given name is Terrence Nelson. However, a big part of the Rastafarian culture is to take on a different name. Terrence is well known throughout the territory as "Positive" Nelson. Part of his campaign was a great slogan of: "Positive is how I live". I have met him, and observed him on several occasions  He truly does appear to live a very positive life, and when living in these territories, watching as your brothers suffer, and struggle. As they choose to live lives that drag them under in currents they cannot swim through. I can only imagine, that this makes Terrence struggle even harder for his brothers. I hope so.

So, as a direct result of this man, everywhere you go on island you see the slogan above. EVERYWHERE! Car bumpers, people, buildings, trees, benches, trash cans. Hell one of the A/C units at my work has this sticker slapped on it. It is a constant reminder to be Positive. Smart campaign, smart idea.

I haven't caught on I guess, I know I tend to be negative about my current state of mind, and residence. This island makes it difficult. I guess that is why someone thought it such a good idea that we have one-thousand reminders daily. I had a friend share something on facebook today, that simply stated: "For one minute walk outside, stand there in complete silence, look up at the sky and contemplate how amazing life really is."

I did this today. I did it yesterday too, as I had a rather cool experience. One I hadn't had in a while. 

I was rushing as usual trying hard not to be late for work and to get out the door with Rozi in tow. On my way to work I need to stop quick at the Post Office to mail my check back to my bank in Idaho. Quickly I rolled up the windows all but an inch or two, locked the doors. Then I unlocked the drivers side because it has the uncanny knack of refusing to let you back in, even with a key. So we don't lock our drivers side door. Promised Rozi I would be a flash, and I ran into the Post. Checked my mail box, empty. Dropped the mail in the slot and was back, a minute if that. Grabbed hold of my door to throw it open, and about ripped the handle off. LOCKED! I stood there a moment in shear amazement. Then quickly I grabbed the key out of my pocket....please work I silently pleaded. Nope. 

I stared through the window at Rozi who had a look of concern and wonder. Also I was staring at my cell phone sitting in the console. Just perfect I thought. Instantly I got mad, I wanted to know why everything had to be so damn hard on this rock. Why I can't just have one thing work as planned. I began to try and convince Rozi to unbuckle herself, which up to this point I was so proud of the fact that she HADN'T figured that out yet. She knew I wanted the door open, and was so intent on trying to reach her door latch while still buckled she couldn't focus on me to listen about the unbuckling instructions I was pleading at her through the window. I stood up looked around, not a soul in sight. I didn't dare walk away from her and I didn't know what to do. I was so frustrated I leaned forward, put me head on the glass closed my eyes and asked. I just needed a little help, just a little.

BEEP, BEEP.

I startled and stood up to look at a tiny white car sitting behind mine. GREAT, I figured just what I needed some good old Cruzan schooling. (They really love to do that here, any chance they get to let you know you done wrong you get it...humbling and infuriating all at the same time.) I assumed the gentleman wanted my parking space and the courteous honk was for me to hurry up. So I ignored him and began again with the unbuckle instructions. I jumped as he spoke, standing right next to me like he materialized on the spot. 

"Locked out?" he asked. I quickly explained my predicament, and he suggested I run to the lumber store about 200 yards away and get a stick to reach the other side door lock. That was when he noticed Rozi, and realized I wouldn't want to leave. He then tried to reach his hand through the window, not a chance. I suggested he push down on the window and I would try my luck. It worked, we popped the window out of the frame, but I got the door open. He stayed with me until the window was fixed good as new. He suggested I leave the window down a little more next time, to which I laughed and replied "No Shit" he laughed too. 

I told him I would pull out so he could have my space. "No mom, I go other way. I turned round to find you," he says, "I be going now." I was shocked, I had been heard.

"Positive is how I live" was plastered on his bumper as I watched him drive away from me in my rear view mirror.