A Beacon of Light

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  • My name is Kevin Carroll. I was born and raised in San Francisco, California, where I attended Saint Ignatius College Preparatory. I am a graduate of both Santa Clara University and the University of San Francisco. Following a 40-year career in teaching and pastoral ministry, I launched a new career as a writer and speaker.

    I live in San José, California. My wife, Kathy, and I have three adult sons and five precious grandchildren. I have much for which to be grateful.

    I can be reached via email at kmc43sjc@gmail.com

    My books are available for purchase online from Amazon. I also have copies of some of these titles at my home for those who would like to buy them directly from me.

    A Moment’s Pause for Gratitude  (2017)

    Cherries in the Summer  (2021)

    The Ambassador of 38th Avenue  (2022)

    Dad: 12 Questions…  (2023)

    A Focus on Gratitude  (2024)

    Through the Lens of Gratitude  (2024)

    A Bahamian Odyssey (2026)

  • What if…?

    “We may have different religions, different languages, different colored skin, but we all belong to one human race.” — Kofi Annan

  • Seeking Serenity

    “Serenity is the
    peaceful coexistence
    with life’s challenges.”
    Dalai Lama

    I’ve written about “sacred spaces” in the past. They can be found in myriad places. For many people, churches, chapels, and shrines provide what they might refer to as their sacred space. For others, venues might include the beach, a particular park, a mountain top, or a quiet lake or stream. For others, their sacred space might be within their home. For something to be a “sacred” space, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a particularly religious place. It simply needs to be a venue which offers us peace of mind and a sense of serenity. It might also be a place where we experience an encounter with our God.

    There are dozens of places which, through the years, have proven to be sacred spaces for me. These include the cliffs along West Cliff Drive in Santa Cruz, the Jesuit Retreat Center in Los Altos, Hakone Gardens in Saratoga, Saint Ignatius Church in The City, and Sunset Dunes Park, formerly known as The Great Highway, in San Francisco. In each of these places, I experience levels of serenity that nurture my soul. 

    One other place comes to mind, as well, although I can’t really claim it as my own sacred space. I’m referring to Land’s End Lookout, a parking lot and picnic area overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the remains of the old Sutro Baths in The City, just north of the Cliff House. This was one of my Mom’s sacred spaces.

    In her final years living on 38th Avenue in The City, before her move to a retirement community in Mountain View in 2012, Mom thoroughly enjoyed spending time sitting in her car in the parking lot at the Land’s End Lookout. Sometimes she would bring a book and do some reading. Sometimes she’d fall asleep. Most often, however, she simply cherished the opportunity to savor the view of the ocean beyond Seal Rocks. If she happened to be there at the right time of day, she would often be treated to a spectacular view of the setting sun. 

    One online dictionary defines serenity as “the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled, representing a deep, lasting and unwavering inner tranquility; it is a composed state of mind that remains steady, even in the midst of chaos.”

    For many years, I had a framed print of The Serenity Prayer hanging on the wall in my home office. A few weeks ago, I removed it from my office and hung it on the wall at the bottom of the steps that lead from our living room up to the bedrooms. I pause several times each day and read the prayer:

    “Lord, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference.” 

  • This is Tony

    “The first  
    hundred years  
    are the hardest.”  
    Wilson Mizner

    It was about 2:30 yesterday afternoon. Kathy, along with my youngest son, Brendan, took my grandson, Henry, to the park. When they left home, I was sitting in a comfortable chair in the living room. I was tired. While a nap was tempting, I thought better of it and decided to get up and go, though I had no particular destination in mind.

    I got in my car and drove down Williams Road to Saratoga Avenue. On a whim, I turned left and proceeded south on Saratoga to Prospect Road. It was there that the thought of stopping for a cup of hot chocolate crossed my mind.

    I parked the car outside Starbucks and walked toward the front door. I noticed that an elderly gentleman was sitting alone at a table in front of the store. I ordered my drink and, while waiting for it to be prepared, I noticed the man moving a couple of chairs from his table back to other tables. I got my drink and went outside.

    “You’ve got the whole patio to yourself,” I proclaimed, and I sat down at an adjacent table. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but I figured the man was probably in his early nineties. He was comfortably dressed and proudly sported a Stanford University cap. His name is Tony. He’s 101 years old!

    We had a delightful conversation which lasted more than an hour. We talked about where we were from, where we’d gone to school, and what we had done for work in our careers. We spoke of our kids and grandkids, experiences we’ve had in common, and where we currently live. Tony moved into an apartment in West San Jose several years ago after meeting his “soul mate.” The apartment directly above her unit was vacant, so Tony moved in. They had several wonderful years together before Elaine, as a result of a fall in her apartment, passed away. That was five years ago.

    Tony confided in me that he didn’t have many people to talk with anymore. All of his school buddies have died. When Elaine passed, Tony was left with some family members around the country, but he was alone in Silicon Valley. 

    He drives (yes, he drives — he just renewed his driver’s license for another five years!) from his apartment to Starbucks every afternoon, just to get out for a while. Yesterday, he had been visiting with two men he’d met at Starbucks in recent years. They had departed prior to my arrival, which is why Tony was rearranging the chairs while I was inside getting my drink.

    Tony also does his own shopping and cooking. Despite his age, he is quite self-sufficient and his cognitive abilities are impressive. I thoroughly enjoyed my conversation with him, and I’m looking forward to getting together with him again soon.

    While I didn’t have a destination in mind when I left my home yesterday afternoon, I am convinced that God did have something planned for me. Something very special. Meeting and conversing with Tony was an absolute gift. His outlook on life is refreshingly positive, and I know we barely scratched the surface of the many stories he has to tell about his life.

    “At 101, you’re not living for the joy of new experiences; you’re surviving out of sheer curiosity to see what ridiculous challenge life throws at you next.” 
    (Roselio Muniz, age 101) 

  • Just for Fun

    A while back, I wrote a post about anagrams. Today, just for the pure enjoyment of it, I’d like to offer this photoblog dedicated to anachronisms.

    Not sure what an anachronism is? The word is defined as “something or someone that is not in its correct historical or chronological time.”

    Enjoy!

  • We Are Not Alone

    “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.“
    — Matthew 18:20

  • Be Kind

    “No act of  
    kindness,  
    no matter  
    how small,  
    is ever wasted.”       
    Aesop

    Since you are reading this blog post, I will assume that you are a kind person. You may not realize this even yourself, but if you think about the way you treat people, day in and day out, you will more than likely recognize a pattern of kindness toward others. When you treat others with kindness, you probably do so most often not because they are necessarily nice, but because you are! This is a good thing.

    Poet Maya Angelou has special words for you. She said, “My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness.”

    I saw a poster recently which stated: “To act with kindness is never a random act; neither is it unintentional. Kindness always flows from self-awareness and empathy for others.” 

    Here’s the bottom line. If you have the opportunity to be kind to someone, just do it. You never know when someone might be struggling silently. There’s a chance that your act of kindness could be the highlight of their day. One kind word from you can make a positive difference in someone’s life.

    Choose kindness… and watch the world around you change.

  • Three Old Men

    “One minute you are 
    young and cool, 
    maybe even a little 
    dangerous, and the 
    next minute you are 
    reading Amazon
    reviews for birdseed.” 
    Hal Urban

    I’ve seen them many times. You’ve probably seen them, too. Three old men,… or, possibly, four or five… sitting in a booth at the Tennessee Grill on Taraval Street in San Francisco, or at a table in a local coffee or donut shop in the South Bay. They are there every day, or so it seems, at the same time. They drink their coffee, enjoy something to eat, and talk unhurriedly for quite a while. 

    I never listen-in to their conversations, but author Shirley Hazzard, in her book The Transit of Venus, has an idea about what they might be discussing. She wrote, “At the other end of the room, the three old men discussed their infirmities; exchanging symptoms in undertones as boys might speak of lust.” She might be right.

    As I get older, meetings with my male friends often happen in coffee shops and local restaurants. And yes, our conversations often touch on such topics as our aches and pains, medications we are taking, the results of our most recent blood work, or how difficult it is for us to do many of the simple things we could do so effortlessly when we were younger. 

    Of course, our conversations are not totally depressing. We also reminisce about “the good old days” of our high school and college years, and we share stories and photos of our kids and grandchildren. Occasionally, someone will make an effort to discuss local and national politics. I do my best to avoid engaging in such conversations. We also talk about shared pastimes such as golf, books we’ve read, local high school athletics, and recent college or professional sporting events. 

    It’s always nice when someone inserts a bit of humor into our discussions, whether it be a bit of friendly teasing, sharing a funny story, or telling a joke. Whatever the topic, I cherish the time I get to spend with my friends.

    I received yet another reminder that I’m getting older last week. One of my elementary school classmates sent out a group text informing several of us that another one of our classmates has died. A memorial service will be held later in the month of May. There was a time when hearing about the passing of a former classmate was shocking. This is no longer the case. We’re all in our seventies now. In the past few years, such news has arrived more frequently. 

    Because of all this, I am again drawn to the theme of gratitude. I am grateful for the friends I have who are still alive and well. I am grateful for my physical and mental health and that of the “kids” I grew up with in The City. I’m grateful for my own life, especially in light of the brush with death I experienced in June 1971, when a blood clot in my left ankle, had it not been detected, could have ended my life prematurely. 

    Gratitude makes a difference,… especially when we express our gratefulness to those responsible for it. Every day provides another opportunity for us to let people know how much we appreciate them and what a positive difference they have made in our lives. It’s important to do this now, while we still have the chance to do so.   

  • Weekend Retreat

    “Serenity is not freedom  
    from the storm, but  
    peace amid the storm..” 
    S.A. Jefferson-Wright

    There are times in our life when we find ourselves being haphazardly tossed about by a powerful, sometimes potentially destructive storm, over which we have no control. While we may be powerless over the disturbance itself, we do have the ability to control how we respond.  

    Kathy and I spent this past weekend at the Jesuit Retreat Center in Los Altos, CA. It was an opportunity for us to practice self-compassion with others who are experiencing turbulence in their own lives. It was time well-spent. 

    The main presenter for the weekend was Father Tom Weston, a Jesuit priest, who has extensive knowledge of and experience with alcoholism and recovery. The stories, insights, and wisdom he shared were inspirational, hopeful, and healing. This particular retreat was for family and friends of alcoholics.

    While the quote above, by Stephen A. Jefferson-Wright, was never mentioned during the retreat, the author’s words accurately describe what participants were seeking this weekend. Most of the meetings during the retreat began with the Serenity Prayer:

    “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”

    We have a framed copy of this prayer in our home. It has been a constant reminder to me for several years that there are, and will always be, situations in my life over which I have absolutely no control. While these experiences may cause pain and suffering, they are also opportunities for tremendous growth and healing.

    Over the course of the weekend, a number of others attending the retreat shared their personal stories of coping with the addiction of loved ones. There was a strong sense of solidarity among the participants as we came to recognize our shared struggle.

    I’m grateful for the experience of this retreat — for the wisdom shared by Father Tom, for the vulnerability and insights shared by other participants, and for the entire staff of the Jesuit Retreat Center who welcomed us to the sacred space and provided such a comfortable, nourishing environment.   

  • “Drop the Rock”

    “Some of us think  
    holding on makes  
    us stronger, but  
    sometimes it is  
    letting go.”       
    Hermann Hesse

    On the surface, letting go of things that weigh us down might be perceived as a sign of weakness. In reality, it’s just the opposite. Letting go of what we cannot control is actually an act of courage and self-compassion. When we are strong enough to release the burdens that suck all the energy out of us, we create space — mental, physical, and emotional space — which allows us to reduce our stress level and to restore our energy.

    At the Al-Anon men’s group meeting I attended last Thursday evening, one of those in attendance shared an insightful phrase: “Drop the rock.” It took a while for me to understand exactly what he meant by those words, but by the end of the meeting, it was fairly clear. 

    When we drop the rock, we allow ourselves to reclaim the energy we need to live our own lives. This enables us to be more creative and to stay focused on our priorities. When we let go of the burden, we don’t forget about what is happening. Instead, we change our relationship to the situation, accepting the reality as it is, rather than trying to control or resist it.

    There are several ways we can go about doing this. It’s always best to begin with small steps. It’s not necessary to release everything at once. It might be more manageable to begin by letting go of some of the smaller burdens associated with the situation. Doing so might take some time, and that’s okay.

    Practicing self-care is also an essential component of the process of letting go. Nurture your well-being by taking time to do things that nourish your soul — walking, reading, hiking, writing, exercising, listening to music,… These activities can help to release some of the emotional weight of the situation.

    It’s important to stay focused on the present moment, to shift your attention away from both the mistakes of the past and the worries about the future. Staying in the present moment is not always easy, but it’s a challenge worthy of our effort and attention.

    Finally, it’s important to seek support when you need it. Reaching out to friends, family members, mental health professionals, and organizations such as Alcoholics Anonymous or Al-Anon can be beneficial in your effort to navigate the emotional process of letting go.

    When it comes right down to it, letting go, or “dropping the rock,” can be understood as an act of faith, one which has the potential to allow us to live a more authentic and joy-filled life. 

  • Men’s Night

    “Men’s groups are  
    about getting four  
    things in your life:  
    • Clarity,  
    • Accountability,  
    • Challenge, and  
    • Support.”       
    Jayson Gaddis

    I began a new journey five weeks ago. It’s something I probably should have started long before now, but… better late than never, right? I began attending Al-Anon meetings on Friday, April 10th. Alcoholism is a reality in my family history: my father, both of his parents and both of his siblings, my mother’s father and both of her siblings, and I’m sure the disease could be traced to many more previous generations. My father warned me about it when I was in high school, so I was well aware of the challenge confronting me. By the grace of God, I am not an alcoholic, but I have not escaped the effects of alcoholism in my life.

    My first Al-Anon meeting was at a Lutheran church in Saratoga. It was a large group — about forty people, mostly women. For some reason, I immediately felt “at home.” Everyone was surprisingly welcoming, and the vibe I felt during the meeting gave me a tremendous sense of peace. After the meeting, one of the women in the group told me about an Al-Anon writing group that meets on Thursdays at noon at the Campbell Community Center. When she described how the meeting was conducted, I knew I wanted to give it a try. I did, and I’ve been to four of the writing sessions so far.

    At the conclusion of a Friday morning meeting last week, one of the men in the group told me about a men’s group that meets on Thursday nights at 7:00 at another church in San José. What an amazing experience. It should come as no surprise that a men’s group meeting is a significantly different experience from a women’s or mixed-gender meeting. (For one, the language was a bit more colorful!) I didn’t count, but I would estimate that approximately forty men attended. The sharing of stories was inspirational. It was clear to me that this group of men were there for each other. As with the other meetings I’ve attended, I was welcomed warmly and invited to return.

    For now, I plan to continue attending all three meetings on a weekly basis. Each has its own charism. With the experience of these meetings, combined with the wisdom contained in the reading I am doing about the disease of alcoholism, I am confident that I will be better equipped to deal with the challenges of the situation.

    One powerful lesson I’ve learned: “You didn’t cause it. You can’t control it. You can’t cure it.” 

    One day at a time.