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)

  • A Close Call

    “I’m not afraid to die.
    I just don’t want to
    be there when
    it happens.” 
    Woody Allen

    I do not fear death. It is inevitable at some point in my life, but I’m not quite ready to go yet. Although my affairs are in order, and have been for quite some time, there is still much I would like to experience in life. 

    It has been a few days since Thursday, January 2, 2025. I am still trying to process what I experienced that morning. By the grace of God, it turned out to be nothing, so why have I been so preoccupied with thoughts of the event throughout these past seventy-two hours?

    Three lanes of cars were at the stoplight on eastbound Moorpark Avenue at Saratoga Avenue in San José. I was the driver of the first car in the middle lane, enjoying a glimpse of the sunrise while I waited for the light to change. When the light turned green, the first car in each lane accelerated into the intersection. The vehicle to my right jumped out to a very quick start. The vehicle to my left started out more slowly, just a bit before me. What happened next is what rattled me.

    As my car entered the intersection, I noticed that the car to my left stopped sharply. Without thinking, I quickly applied the brake. It was a reaction, not a decision. I didn’t know, at that moment, why the car to my left was stopping, but it didn’t take long for me to find out. A white pickup truck, traveling southbound on Saratoga Avenue, barreled through the intersection at approximately 40 miles per hour (the posted speed limit) or faster. My car, and the vehicle to my left, stopped just in the nick of time. The car to my right had taken off so quickly that the white pick-up truck, after blowing past the two stopped cars, sped through the intersection behind the other vehicle, miraculously without hitting it. At no point did the driver of the pick-up apply the brakes. How he made it through the intersection without colliding with another vehicle will always be a mystery to me.

    I will never know exactly what would have happened had I not stopped as quickly as I did. There is no question that the truck would have hit the left side of my car, but where? If it happened to strike the left-front wheel, my Honda would have been totally destroyed. More than likely, I would have been injured, but I might have survived the impact. A split-second later, the truck would have hit my driver-side door. Given the size and speed of the oncoming truck, I’m not sure the collision would have been survivable. 

    It’s interesting how my view of the world around me has changed since that incident. I have recurring thoughts of what life would be like without me here. Walking through Saratoga Creek Park yesterday afternoon, I was more aware of the beauty of the sacred space. While sitting outside Starbucks, I couldn’t help but appreciate the smiles and simple greetings I received from customers entering the store. If nothing else, it validated that I’m still here. And last night, as I was driving home from Santa Clara on Benton Street, I realized that if that truck had hit my car, the street would have been empty, as there were no other vehicles in sight at that time.

    While we are all aware of our mortality, it is so easy to become complacent in life, taking for granted the people and experiences which enrich our lives on a daily basis. I avoided an accident three days ago. I didn’t get hurt. I’m still alive. My 2005 Honda is intact. Yet the reality of the situation is that the outcome could have been very different. I can’t shake this thought from my mind. 

    It was a close call — and a wake-up call. It was a stark reminder that I must make the most of each day, cherish the people in my life, and be grateful for the opportunity to continue doing what I can to make a positive difference in the world. 

  • All About Effort

    “To give anything less
    than your best
    is to sacrifice
    the gift.”
    Steve Prefontaine

    During my career as an educator, I witnessed the full spectrum of student effort. Many of my students were consistently conscientious, some to the point of obsession, about doing well and putting forth their best effort on class assignments. A smaller percentage of students seemed to think that someone else should do their work for them. These students often failed to complete required reading or submit homework assignments. A number of these same students chose to be inattentive or uninvolved in class discussions. The largest percentage of students were somewhere in between these two extremes. They did what was required to successfully complete the course.

    For several years, I had the Steve Prefontaine quote (above) posted on the back wall of my classroom. One might wonder why I would post such an inspirational quote on the back wall, rather than in the front of the room. The reason is quite simple: I posted it for me! Certainly, I hoped my students would notice it and be inspired by Prefontaine’s words, but my primary reason for posting it was to inspire me — to provide a daily reminder to myself to put forth my best effort every day of the academic year.

    There were days when I failed to put forth 100% effort. Occasionally, I slipped into “survival mode” due to illness or sheer exhaustion. Burning the candle at both ends, a practice I tried to avoid, sometimes took its toll, resulting in an attempt to just get through the day (or week).  Fortunately, those times were rare. Most often, my car was one of the first in the faculty parking lot each morning and one of the last to leave in the afternoon. It was quite common for me to spend my Sunday afternoons in my classroom preparing lessons for the upcoming week.

    Even today, I do my best to put forth my best effort — whether in my role as a writer, father, husband, neighbor, or friend. While I fall short of this expectation on a regular basis, my intentions are good. I want my wife, my sons and grandkids, my neighbors, and my friends to know that my goal is to be the best person I can be for them and to put forth my best effort in my relationships with them.

    Steve Prefontaine was a runner — one of the best in the United States. He once held national records in every long-distance running event. He came up short of winning a medal at the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich, Germany. Undeterred, he refocused his efforts on preparing for the 1976 Games in Montreal, Canada. Unfortunately, his plans were derailed when he died in an auto accident in May of 1974.  He was only 24 years old. Prefontaine knew what it meant to give one’s best. He also recognized that his running ability was a God-given gift, so the quote above is a reflection of that understanding.

    Although I may come up short from time to time, my goal is still to put forth my best effort in everything I do. Giving my best effort is a way of expressing my gratitude for the many ways I have been blessed. That, in itself, should provide all the motivation I need.

    “Doing your best
    is more important than
    being the best.”
    Zig Ziglar

  • Mentors


    “We must find the time
    to stop and thank
    those people who
    make a difference
    in our lives.”
    John F. Kennedy

    I would be hard-pressed to name all the women and men who have made a positive difference in my life. The list would include family members, teachers, coaches, neighbors, friends, colleagues, teammates, healthcare professionals, and so many more. I’ve been blessed to have so many kind, compassionate individuals in my life. President John F. Kennedy suggested that we take the time to thank these people for the difference they made in our lives. Sadly, I waited much too long to do so.

    A few difference-makers in my life rise to a different level — that of mentor. A simple dictionary definition of this term might describe them as wise and trusted counselors or teachers. In reality, they are so much more.

    A mentor is someone who shares their knowledge, expertise, and experience to assist another person in their personal, professional, or spiritual growth. Mentors provide individuals with guidance and support in their life journey. They encourage their mentees to clarify their life goals and to take action to achieve them.

    The goal of mentoring is to help the mentee navigate the inevitable challenges of life, to develop skills to deal with them effectively, and, ultimately, to achieve their personal and professional goals. Author John Maxwell tells us, “We all need someone to help us in our pursuit of intentional growth and the right mentor helps you take massive leaps forward.” 

    The Harvard Business Review characterized the successful mentor relationship as one characterized by “mutual respect, trust, shared values, and good communication.”

    Six individuals come to mind when I consider those who have filled the role of mentor in my life:

    1. Rich Baptista: During the summers of 1967 to 1970, Rich and I worked together at Silver Tree Day Camp in San Francisco. He was a professional educator who worked at the summer camp for many years. I was hired to work as a junior counselor, assisting adult counselors with the supervision of young campers. Rich, who served as director of the summer camp, consistently provided advice and guidance which enhanced my leadership skills and self-confidence.

    2. Russ Roide: A Jesuit priest at St. Ignatius College Prep in San Francisco, Russ saw something in me that I was unable to see in myself — until I did. In 1971, he invited me to work in Jamaica for the summer. In 1972, he recommend me for a job working in the student dormitory at Bellarmine College Prep in San José. This job provided me with room and board throughout my college years. In 1974, he contacted me to inquire about my interest in teaching in a Catholic high school in Nassau, Bahamas — a life-changing experience. His influence on my life is undeniable.

    3. Mike Mitchell: Mike was also a Catholic priest. He served as pastor at St. Lawrence Parish in Santa Clara from 1985 to 1991. During those years, I was employed as a pastoral associate at the parish. A number of challenging situations, both professional and personal, arose during that time which I was able to handle effectively thanks to Mike’s insightful guidance.

    4. Ron Modeste: In 1994, when I was in desperate need of a change in the workplace, Ron was serving as principal of St. Lawrence Academy, the parish high school. My job as pastoral associate for the parish included responsibilities in the high school. Ron invited me to increase my role in the school to full-time status. I gratefully accepted. For the next seven years, Ron was much more than just my boss. He was my mentor, friend, and confidante. His trust in me, combined with the wisdom he shared with me about education and fatherhood, had a profound impact on my level of confidence.

    5. Sam Chan: I met Sam, the father of two of my former students, in the early 2000’s when his kids got involved in the Japan Exchange Program I coordinated at St. Lawrence. Sam owns and operates his own highly-successful computer components company. He is also a certified life-coach. By the end of the 2013 academic year, Sam noticed that I was struggling with my role at the school. Morale at the school had deteriorated. I had an overwhelming sense that it was time for me to move on to a new venture, but I was fearful of making a move. The problem was that I was approaching the age of 60. It would have been difficult for me to find a teaching position in a new school, as my placement on the salary schedule would have been prohibitive due to my education and experience. Sam invited me to stop by his office for a chat. It was life-changing. With his guidance and encouragement, I took a risk and retired from teaching in June 2015 to begin a new career as a writer and speaker.

    6. Hal Urban: Several years ago, I picked up a book in a local bookstore — 20 Things I Want My Kids to Know. The book was revised and republished in 2012 with the title 20 Gifts of Life. Having three kids of my own, I read the book and found it to be quite insightful. A few years later, at a social function, I happened to meet the author, Hal Urban. I contacted Hal for advice on publishing my first book. His guidance, encouragement, and friendship have been instrumental in my success as a writer and as a person.

    Research has shown that having a mentor is tied to an overall increase in one’s emotional health. I think I can safely say this has been true in my case. Sadly, Rich and Russ have passed. Mike and Ron are enjoying retirement and I rarely see either of them anymore. Sam and Hal, however, are still very much a part of my life. Both have unique gifts to share with me as I continue my life journey. I am grateful to all of them for the positive difference they have made in my life through the years.

    Who are the individuals who have filled the mentor role in your life? 

  • True Strength

    “A strong nation,
    like a strong person,
    can afford to be gentle, firm,
    thoughtful, and restrained.
    It can afford to extend
    a helping hand to others.”
    ~ Jimmy Carter

    Jimmy Carter was the real thing. I expect that he will go down in history as the American leader who, throughout his entire lifetime, most exemplified the trait of integrity.

    I’m not a historian. My knowledge of and interest in politics is limited. I do, however, have a fairly good memory. In the early 1970’s, following the debacle of the Nixon administration and Watergate, the United States found themselves with the only leader to serve as President without ever having been elected into the Executive Branch of the government. In the wake of Vice President Spiro Agnew’s resignation, Gerald Ford was appointed to replace him. When Richard Nixon resigned a short time later, Ford became the 38th President of the United States.

    In the 1976 election, President Ford was challenged by an unknown peanut farmer from Georgia by the name of Jimmy Carter. Carter won the November election, becoming the 39th President of the United States. I will leave it to historians to judge his presidency.

    Carter’s greatest contribution to the world is the life he lived after leaving the White House in 1981. For the next 40+ years, the former President worked tirelessly with Habitat for Humanity to provide affordable housing for thousands of Americans. Carter didn’t wear a suit and tie or take on an administrative position in the organization. He didn’t work in an air conditioned office with Ethan Allen furniture. Rather, the former president donned blue jeans, work boots, a Habitat for Humanity work shirt, hard hat, tool belt, and, often times, a bandanna around his neck. Carter worked with the tools of the construction trade to labor side-by-side with other volunteers and with those who would eventually live in the homes they built.

    The many pictures of President Jimmy Carter in his post-White House years are not photo-ops so commonly seen of politicians doing five minutes of volunteer work for the cameras. Carter’s commitment to Habitat was genuine. He certainly must have been aware of photographers snapping photos of him hammering nails, sawing wood, or framing a home, but the former President was not posing for the cameras. His volunteer work was motivated by genuine kindness, compassion, and love.

    During a recent visit to Los Angeles, I had the opportunity to visit the headquarters of Homeboy Industries, where, like Jimmy Carter, Father Gregory Boyle, S.J. works side-by-side with former gang members to provide opportunities for them to live productive lives and to be contributing members of society. While there, I purchased a hat embroidered with this quote by Father Greg: “Kindness is the only strength there is.” 

    Some people just get it!   

  • Hope

    “What a wonderful
    thought it is that
    some of the best days
    of our lives haven’t
    even happened yet.”
    ~ Anne Frank

    I mentioned in yesterday’s blog post that there’s something about the last day of each calendar year that brings up a feeling of melancholy in me. It is equally true that there’s something about the first day of each calendar year that engenders a feeling of hope in me. I like to consider the word hope to be an acronym: Have Only Positive Expectations. Is this not the ideal way to begin each new chapter of our lives?

    More than likely, we will all be confronted with challenging times and difficult situations at some point in this new year, but why worry about them now? Maybe they will materialize, but maybe they won’t. It seems that too many people deprive themselves of experiencing the joy of the present moment by worrying about the possible negative things which might arise in their lives at a later time.

    I’m certainly not suggesting that we abandon essential responsibilities such as financial planning and long-term health. These are significant elements of being a mature adult. Responsible spending, eating, and behavior need not be swept aside in order to maintain positive expectations in our lives. What we need to sweep aside is unnecessary, unhealthy worry about our future and that of those we love. 

    As we begin our journey through 2025, it is quite possible, as Anne Frank proposed, that “some of the best days of our lives haven’t even happened yet.” Give this some serious consideration. Will we allow ourselves to be open to these opportunities or will we be too preoccupied with fear of what might happen to even recognize them when they arise in our lives?

    I’m 70 years old. I’m grateful to be 70. I’m totally at peace with being 70. Am I approaching the end of my life? Well, yes… but aren’t we all, despite our age? I used to think 70 was old. I have a very different perspective on 70 now. Knowing that there are no guarantees, I’m looking forward, with tremendous hope, to at least twenty more years of life. If I don’t last that long, so be it. While I am alive, though, I will continue to make an effort to live each day with positivity, gratitude, and hope. 

  • Let It Go

    “New beginnings
    are often disguised
    as painful endings.”
    ~ Lau Tzu

    There’s something about the last day of each calendar year that brings up a feeling of melancholy in me. It’s not so much a gloomy state of mind. It’s more of an experience of sober pensiveness or contemplation. On this day each year, before I fully embrace the possibilities of the new year, I find myself reflecting back on the previous twelve months. There are times when doing this is a pleasant experience. At other times, however, I find it difficult to let go of the year which is ending.

    There were certainly some highlights in 2024 — a brief visit to Palm Desert, California and visits with friends there; the birth of my grandson, Henry; a few more social gatherings of some of my elementary school classmates; countless breakfast, lunch, and dinner engagements with friends and family; the publication of two more books on the topic of gratitude; a get-away to Ojai, California with Kathy; numerous visits to the downtown Campbell farmers market; a few days in Los Angeles to visit with my brother, Tom, at Loyola Marymount University; a riverboat cruise on the Colombia and Snake Rivers with Kathy to celebrate our 39th wedding anniversary; attending a few Giants’ baseball games at Oracle Park; several speaking engagements on the topic of gratitude; and increasing my daily walking, resulting in an average of more than 5,000 steps per day throughout 2024. In many ways, it’s been a good year.

    Like all years, however, there were some difficult times. I attended four funerals in 2024 — two for family members and two for friends (one was an elementary school classmate.) I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that the older I get, the more funerals I attend.

    Fortunately, these losses, and a few other challenges with which I was confronted this past year, were outnumbered by the good experiences and opportunities I enjoyed.

    Perhaps the most significant change in my life in 2024 has been as a result of my decision to delete my social media accounts in late January. While this decision has resulted in the loss of contact with a number of people with whom I would like to stay connected, the positive results of this decision have been overwhelming. It’s amazing how much more time I have in my day, every day, as a result of deleting my Facebook account. I was also able to escape the online vitriol and negativity associated with the 2024 presidential election. I am grateful to have made this change in my life.

    Kathy and I just returned home from a delightful New Year’s Eve dinner at a local restaurant with our son, Brendan. After posting this blog piece, I’ll head over to our local Paris Baguette Bakery where, each night at 9:00, I pick up all the pastries and breads that were not sold today. In late June, it came to my attention that all the unsold items were being tossed in the trash at closing time. I asked if it might be possible for me to stop by each night, pick them up, and deliver them to organizations that could use them. I’ve done this just about every night for the past five months. I take the products to places like the Cypress Senior Center, Morning Star Memory Care, Mission City Skilled Nursing, Villa Fontana Senior Living Community, and a number of other locations. It’s nice to know that these food items are not going to waste.

    Yes, New Year’s Eve can be bittersweet, yet my overall feeling as I reflect back on the past twelve months is that of genuine gratitude.      

  • Developing Empathy

    “Forget what hurt you
    in the past,
    but never forget
    what it taught you.”
    ~Author Unknown

    In the late 1970’s, I was teaching at Bellarmine College Prep in San José. One of my colleagues shared the following humorous, yet thought-provoking story with me:

    A little bird was flying south for the winter. It was bitter cold, so much so that the poor little bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. Soon after, a cow came by and dropped some dung on him. As the frozen little bird lay there in the pile of cow manure, he began to realize how warm he was. The manure was actually thawing him out! He laid there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy.

    As fate would have it, a passing cat heard the bird singing and came to investigate. When the cat discovered the little bird under the pile of cow manure, he promptly dug him out — and ate him.

    There are three important lessons one can learn from this brief story:

    (1) Not everyone who shits on you is necessarily your enemy.

    (2) Not everyone who gets you out of shit is necessarily your friend.

    (3) And when you’re in deep shit, it’s probably best to just keep your mouth shut!

    • • •

    Life lesson are constantly available to us. They come in the form of inspiring posters, thought-provoking quotes, humorous stories, bumper stickers, and great literature. We learn life lessons from grandparents, coaches, parents, teachers, preachers, writers, neighbors, children, and school custodians. Life lessons can be learned at any time, anywhere, and from anyone. Although the author of the quote at the top of this post is unknown, the wisdom of the author’s words have tremendous value. We are all hurt at one time or another. In such situations, we have choices — we can hold on to the hurt, refusing to forgive the person who hurt us, or we can let go of it and offer the gift of forgiveness, whether it’s deserved or not. Whichever choice we make, it’s important that we never forget the lesson we learned from the situation.

    Some of life’s most important lessons are learned from painful experiences. Certainly, the death of a loved one is a cause of significant pain, yet that same loss can be a tremendous learning experience for us — one which enables us to be more empathetic toward those who experience a similar loss.

    This Christmas season was a difficult one for several people I know. All of them experienced the loss of a loved one in the past year, and all of them struggled to embrace the joy of the holiday season. I remember well the Christmas after my father died. I couldn’t listen to Christmas music. I didn’t want to celebrate the holiday, because it just didn’t feel right celebrating anything. There was such a tremendous void in my life, one which simply could not be filled with anything the holiday season had to offer. I was also unjustifiably resentful that those around me were celebrating Christmas as they always did, seemingly oblivious to my overwhelming sense of loss.

    Sixteen years have passed since that time. I am in a much better place today. Through the years, I have come to fully accept the reality of my father’s death. I’m now able to fully embrace the celebrations of Christmas and the New Year.

    I will always remember what I learned from that difficult time in my life. I am acutely aware of the pain and sense of loss in the lives of those who have experienced the loss of a loved one in recent months. I’ve made an effort to reach out to several of these individuals, some family and some friends. I understand their pain. I share their sense of loss. 

    I try to assure these individuals that things will get better with time. This is something I couldn’t imagine in December 2008. Now I know that it is possible.

  • Speak Out!

    “A child that is being
    abused by its parents
    doesn’t stop loving
    its parents. It stops
    loving itself.” 
    ~ Shahidi Arabi 

    “GODDAMMIT! DON’T DO THAT!”

    The loud, shrill voice of a woman in the parking structure at Westfield Valley Fair Mall in Santa Clara this evening was one I could not ignore. So much has been written lately about security concerns in the parking structures of local malls, I felt compelled to investigate immediately. I took a few steps back and peered between two parked minivans. From that vantage point, I could see the woman, who was clearly agitated. The trunk of her car was open. The woman was tossing bags of items into the trunk while her toddler-age child sat in a stroller next to the car. No one else was around. The woman was upset with the crying toddler.

    I stood there for several seconds taking in the situation. The woman saw me and said, rather caustically, “Do you have a problem?”  

    “Apparently, I do,” I replied. “Verbal abuse of a small child should be a problem for any responsible person.”

    “F%#@ you,” she said as she slammed the trunk and quickly moved the child from the stroller to the carseat in the vehicle. I just stood and watched until she backed out of the parking space and drove away.

    It’s true. It wasn’t my business. My first thought was that the woman was in danger. When I realized that she had been screaming at the toddler, I was dumbfounded. I could have simply ignored the disturbance. Many others might have done so. I chose to investigate, and upon doing so, observed the dispiriting situation. Holiday stress? Perhaps. While not excusing the inappropriate behavior of the mother, I can certainly understand how the pressures of holiday shopping can put one on edge. But the child… what could a child of that age possibly have done to deserve such a verbal lashing?

    I was not a perfect parent. I, too, responded inappropriately at times to things my kids said or did when they were young. I am not proud of the way I handled some situations. On more than one occasion, I sat down, held the hands of the son I had offended, looked directly into his eyes, and apologized for my inappropriate response. Those apologies, followed by a long hug, always made me feel better. I hope it made them feel better, too.

    I don’t regret that I stopped and addressed the situation at the mall this evening. I don’t think I was rude, but I did convey a very clear message that the woman’s treatment of her child was not appropriate, and that yes, someone noticed.

    They say, “It takes a village…” Sometimes we have an obligation to pay attention — and to speak out.  

  • It’s True!

    “What you do
    makes a difference.” 
    ~ Jane Goodall

    After loading the basket of groceries into the back of her SUV, a young mother opened the side door and gently place her toddler securely into a car seat. She then closed the door, returned to the back of the vehicle, and, with an expression of pure exhaustion, looked around for an appropriate place to put the shopping cart. The Trader Joe’s parking lot was packed. It was a Friday afternoon, just a few days before Christmas. As the look on the woman’s face transitioned from exhausted to desperate, an older man, who just happened to be walking by, stopped and said, “I can take that back for you.”

    The woman expressed her appreciation. The man pushed the shopping cart across the busy parking lot driveway, parked it carefully with others just outside the front door of the store, then continued on his way. He did not go into Trader Joe’s to shop. In fact, he was not in need of a shopping cart at all. He simply performed that act of kindness and continued on his afternoon walk. 

    In the same parking lot that afternoon, a number of impatient drivers used their car horns to express their aggravation or anger with other drivers who were doing their best to navigate the chaos of holiday traffic in the congested lot. 

    It’s true. For good or for bad, what we do makes a difference.  

    Jane Goodall is a well-known and highly-respected scientist. She has been referred to as a conservationist, zoologist, primatologist, and anthropologist. The job title for which she is best known, however, is ethologist. Yeah, I had to look that one up, too. An ethologist is a scientist who studies the behavior of animals in their natural environment. Goodall, who will always be remembered for her incredible work with gorillas, has made a difference in the world. She is convinced that we are all called to the same lofty challenge.

    “You cannot get through a single day without having an impact on the world around you,” she said. “What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.”

    Now you might be one to ask, “Who… me? What kind of difference can I make in the world? I’m just a…..” (Fill in the blank)

    I’m just a checkout clerk at a grocery store. I’m just a shoe salesperson at Nordstrom. I’m just a letter carrier for the postal service. I’m just a security guard. I’m just a gardener. I just make cakes and pastries at Paris Baguette. I’m just a yard supervisor at the local junior high school. I’m just a server at Lazy Dog Restaurant. I just cut hair for a living. I’m just a secretary in a small law office. I’m just a stay-at-home mom. Just? Really?

    Every one of these occupations offer countless daily opportunities to make a positive difference in the lives of other people. Each job enables the workers to have an impact on the world around them. For good or for bad, what we do and how we treat those around us makes a difference. And, when it comes right down to it, it’s not about our job. Retired individuals are called to the same challenge. 

    Rather than seeking to be the boulder dropped into the small pond, making a big splash to be noticed by all, try instead to be like the pebble — much less noticeable, yet able to send gentle ripples of positivity into the world.

    We can, and we do, make a difference! Be sure it’s a positive one.  

  • Autumn’s End

    “We must prepare
    for an end.” 
    Gwynn Scheltema

    In a recent article, award-winning writer and poet Gwynn Sheltema wrote, “Falling leaves symbolize change and even though they are brilliant in color, we know what is soon to follow — winter.” 

    Today marks the beginning of the final week of autumn 2024. The official start to the season of winter is Saturday, December 21st. A break in the rain offered me an opportunity to get out for an afternoon walk today. It was a blessing for so many reasons.

    As Sheltema pointed out in her article, “Fall brings a certain melancholy.” While the astounding beauty of the autumn leaves may leave us in awe, we can’t help but be reminded that after a lifetime of growing and thriving on the tree, each falling leaf has served its purpose in life. Each one helplessly floats to the ground where, for a brief time, we recall and appreciate its presence in our lives. It’s just a matter of time, however, before the rakes and leaf-blowers send these leaves, and our memories of them, to their final resting place.  

    Why the feelings of melancholy? As Sheltema wrote, “Our symbolic human autumn of maturity must prepare us for the winter of old age and death.” We are well aware that death is inevitable for each of us. We devote a lifetime to making a name for ourselves and making a positive difference in the world. Most of us would like to be remembered for who we were and, perhaps, what we accomplished in our lifetime. In reality, like the leaves strewn upon the ground which will soon be swept-up and forgotten, we, too, will eventually become a forgotten memory.

    In the introduction to my book, The Ambassador of 38th Avenue, I quoted a line from John Steinbeck’s short story, Tularecito. The author wrote, “After the bare requisites to living and reproducing, man wants most to leave some record of himself, a proof, perhaps, that he really existed.” This thought crossed my mind today as I walked through the colorful, leaf-strewn neighborhood. 

    It is humbling to realize that, much like the leaves on the streets and sidewalks, memories of me and the time I have spent on this earth will be relatively short-lived. My name will not appear in history textbooks. There will be no parks or city streets named after me, nor will there be any statues erected in my honor. My name will not grace any buildings on the campuses of the schools I attended. Yes, I’ve published a few books which may or may not be read in future generations, but I readily admit that my life will be much like the rock tossed into a placid lake — it will temporarily cause ripples which will inevitably dissipate over time.

    It’s understandable that one might allow such feelings of melancholy to overwhelm them, leading them to an experience of hopelessness. Such a reaction is not the only option. What others think of me, if they do at all, after my death is not of interest to me. What motivates me to get out of bed in the morning is the opportunity to make a positive difference in the lives of others each day, to lighten the burden on those who are suffering, and to help others to recognize that they are enough just as they are. Society and media bombard us with messages telling us that we are inferior and deprived, then offer us some product that will magically make us significant. Sadly, these messages can be quite convincing.

    Today’s walk through the neighborhood provided time for me to immerse myself in gratitude for the people, experiences, and opportunities I have had, and continue to have, in my life. When we make a concerted effort to see the world around us Through the Lens of Gratitude, life improves considerably.