I wake in the dark to an empty house, well-rested.  Brew coffee and write.

As the first shadows begin to appear in the early morning sun rise, I make my way to my car and drive to one of the most beautiful beaches I know.  My steps are the first imprints of 2011 on these golden sands, wandering slowly under a pinking sky.

Often during this time of year the waves are so big you cannot walk to the end of the beach.  This morning the winter swell is moderate, the tide low.

I have an all-access pass to the place that is my temple.  Not a soul in sight.

At the fresh-water spring that flows through rock and thick green moss, I strip down and stand in the tall fall.  Look out at the vast ocean that stretches north into nothing but horizon.  Salt and sea mist rise and cool water anoints my crown.  Good morning!

In the afternoon Jeb and I load up my car with good friends and a big bowl of Thai squash soup.  The scent of garlic and curry wafts through the vehicle as we make our way to the Taro Patch where a community potluck is being held.  Hawaiian chanting, African drumming, songwriters and a didgeridoo.  Two couples get up and renew vows before the 400+ crowd in ‘sacred union’ ceremony.  There is interpretive dance that I think has something to do with a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

All of Kauai’s woo woo crew are here in a potpourri of bright batiks, Hawaiian prints, Burning Man accessories, fedoras and board shorts.  We are an eclectic family all perspiring together in the muggy grass.  But we’re happy by the riverside, in the sacred space of this place at the base of Kalalea – Anahola’s distinctive mountain.

Children run about safely unattended.  Jeb keeps scaling jagged lava rock and I can’t decide if I should pluck him down or just stop watching.  Elijah and John Dumas are on the stage singing about the freedom of living your dreams.  They’ve altered the standard “Happy New Year” so that we all may transcend time and space, by simply saying “Happy New Now.”  It’s New Year’s Day on Kauai.

The event culminates with a “Goddess Chant” but I’m confused to see all the women at the back of the stage and a man with the mic in the front singing about opening our hearts.  We gather our things and exit before I have a chance to see them come front and center.

Back home with friends, we eat a simple dinner of garden pesto and pasta.  Crisp bread and red wine.  For dessert, maple wafers and tangerines by the fire, while a friend from Tahiti tells tales of diving with dolphins in his thick French accent.  Jeb demonstrates how to make a blade of grass whistle in your hands.

From Kauai, I’m wishing you a beautiful new year and a most excellent ‘Now’!