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)

  • Thank You!

    “Like a bird singing
    in the rain,
    let grateful memories
    survive in times of sorrow.”
    ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

    On April 22, 2022, Kathy’s mother, Norma Hamm, got the call that her table was ready. She closed her eyes and moved on to take her place at the table of the Lord with her beloved Larry. Though her passing was not unexpected, it was, none the less, painful to accept. Her eight children, all well into their adulthood, collaborated to plan a beautiful memorial service and reception in her honor. It was, to quote Dickens, “… the best of times and the worst of times.”

    Today, two years later, Norma is no less loved than she was the day she died. In his book, For One More Day, author Mitch Albom pointed out the significance of a mother’s love. He wrote, “I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.” I felt this way about my mother, and I know Kathy and her siblings felt the same way about Norma.

    Albom wasn’t the only author to reflect on a mother’s love. J.K. Rowling, creator of the Harry Potter series, shared her thoughts, as well. She said, “Love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.” 

    To have experienced such a love is certainly reason for deep gratitude. On the anniversary of a loved one’s death, is there anything a person can say which might ease the burden of the loss for themselves and others? I believe there is. What we can say is a simple, heartfelt “Thank you!” 

    As the German theologian, Meister Eckhart, stated, “If the only prayer you ever said in your entire life is ‘Thank you,’ that would be enough.” 

    Thank you, Norma.

  • A Dream

    “In the silence of writing,
    we discover the power
    of our own voice.”
    ~ Nicole Brown

    For many years, I’ve had a dream — to take some time away for a writing retreat. I am blessed to have an office in my home where I do much of my writing. I cherish this space and I appreciate the time available to me to focus on writing. As one might imagine, however, the gift of a home office is often accompanied by any number of distractions. While many of these distractions are quite pleasant, they are distractions none the less. It can be a challenge to refocus on writing once the flow has been interrupted.

    I eliminated one significant distraction earlier this year when I deleted my Facebook account. For me, logging-in to social media was much like walking into the famous Cheers bar in Boston. It was a familiar place where, at any given time, I could run into any number of family members, friends, and acquaintances who happened to be there. What may have started as a quick 10-minute check-in often turned into a marathon multi-hour adventure. It took awhile, but I finally realized that social media was detrimental to my commitment to writing. 

    I have had the privilege of attending a number of weekend retreats in my lifetime. Each retreat focused on a particular theme. I always enjoyed the opportunity to spend a couple of days away from the chaos of everyday life to focus on the theme of the retreat and to allow the experience to nurture my soul. In the fall of 1975, I participated in a 30-day retreat. The month-long adventure offered tremendous potential for spiritual growth. Unfortunately, I lacked the maturity, at that point in my life, to take full advantage of the opportunity.

    When I consider the possibility of embarking on a writing retreat, I’m not thinking of just a weekend. I would like to invest more than 48 hours in this endeavor. The thought of devoting thirty distraction-free days to writing appeals to me. I don’t know exactly where I would go, nor do I know how I could justify the cost of such a luxury, but the dream is real. A small house on a tiny island might be nice, but there are more practical options, as well.

    The more I write, the more I recognize that time devoted to writing is sacred time. Writing is an act of faith, an act of love, and an act of courage. A 30-day writing retreat would be an act of faith because it would provide more than simply uninterrupted writing time. For me, it would enable me to journey into the sacred space inside myself, to the place where I often discover the power of my own voice — and God’s. It would be an act of love because writing is a gift with which I’ve been blessed, one which I am grateful to be able to share with readers. Writing is an act of courage because putting my thoughts into words, and sharing those words with the world, requires a degree of vulnerability, as I reveal my experiences, thoughts, fears, and emotions with those who read what I have written.  

    After seeing the movie The Bucket List in early 2008, I created my own bucket list — twenty things I wanted to do or accomplish before my death. Number one on that list was to write and publish a book. Mission accomplished. Today, the new number one item on my list is to experience a 30-day writing retreat. I’m a firm believer in the encouraging words of Walt Disney, who said, “If you can dream it, you can achieve it.” 

  • One Old Grouch

    “A father’s love still travels
    on after he’s gone.
    A treasure hidden in the
    hearts of his children.”
    ~ John Green

    The welcome mat outside the front door of Kathy’s childhood home in Sunnyvale said it all: One nice person and one old grouch live here. Of course, this was the source of much laughter and conversation through the years. Everyone knew who the nice person was, so by default… Larry took it all in stride. 

    At 6 feet 7 inches, Larry was an imposing figure. When I first met Kathy, her parents were out of town. When they returned home, they were greeted by Kathy’s younger siblings who excitedly informed them that Kathy had met someone. When I finally had the opportunity to meet Larry and Norma, I was a bit intimidated by the deep-voiced man whose hand dwarfed mine when we shook hands. Oh, he was friendly enough. Still, it took me a while to be able to relax in his presence. As time went on, I realized that I could not have asked for a better father-in-law.

    The fun really began when Kathy and I started having children. The boys would be playing in the family room at Grandma and Grandpa’s home. Larry might have been outside working in the garden, a task which brought him tremendous peace of mind. When he came back into the house and saw one or all three of the boys sitting in his recliner, he would bellow in a loud, booming voice, “Get outta my chair!” The boys would scream with joy and immediately relocate to another part of the room. It was a game the kids loved to play.

    At family dinners, Larry was often the main chef. He made the most amazing lasagna I’ve ever tasted, and he’d make it from scratch. Throughout the afternoon prior to a large family meal, Larry could be found in the kitchen cutting up carrots or string beans with meticulous precision. It seemed to be therapeutic for him. And after dinner, when we would all return to the family room, Larry would inevitably sing his favorite song:

    I wish I was single again, again,
    I wish I was single again,
    for if I was single
    my pockets would jingle
    I wish I was single again, again,
    I wish I was single again.

    Family celebrations at the Hamm household always included Larry’s song followed by Kathy’s brother, Bob, singing his rough-’n-tumble rendition of Rawhide! 

    Larry passed away in the fall of 2001. Today would have been his 94th birthday. Despite the twenty-three years that have passed since his death, Larry is remembered today with love by his eight children (and their spouses), fourteen grandchildren, and a number of neighbors and friends. He is remembered as a man of integrity, for that is exactly what he was.

  • Astounding!

    “If we did all the things
    we are capable of doing,
    we would literally
    astound ourselves.” 
    ~ Thomas Edison

    The inspirational words of Walt Disney have motivated many individuals to achieve more than they had ever imagined. He proclaimed, “If you can dream it, you can do it.” 

    The word “imagineer” is associated by most, I would think, with Disney. The term, a blend of IMAGINe and enginEER, was actually invented and used by Alcoa, the large aluminum company, back in the 1940s. Imagineering is defined as “the implementing of creative ideas into practical form.” At Disney, imagineers design and build all Disney theme parks, resorts, attractions, and cruise ships worldwide. 

    Imagineering is a well-paid and highly coveted job opportunity. I think it’s important to acknowledge, however, that we all possess the potential to be imagineers in our own ways.

    The motto of the elementary school my three sons attended is “Believe, Achieve, Succeed.” In other words, the purpose of the school is to develop imagineers who are capable of achieving success in life by nurturing their dreams into reality. Is this not a task to which we are all called?

    Unfortunately, self-doubt is an epidemic. Far too many people, it seems, dismiss their dreams as being unachievable. Now and then, someone comes along who pursues their dream relentlessly and with passion. While we stand in awe of their accomplishments and creativity, we often fail to recognize that very same potential in ourselves. 

    Far too many people talk about their dreams with a vague “someday” mindset. Whether our goal is to earn a college degree, lose unwanted weight, gain proficiency in a particular activity, learn a new language, organize a cluttered garage, or write a book, we are capable of achieving our goal. To do so, however, requires self-discipline and an unwavering commitment to getting the job done.

    As Thomas Edison predicted in the quote above, when we accomplish our goals, we can literally astound ourselves!

  • Jesuit Education

    “See the beauty and
    power of God
    in everything.”
    ~ John McCambridge

    Many have said that education is the key to success. While some may disagree, my own experience supports this claim. I was fortunate. Not only did I get an excellent education, I received a Jesuit education. I graduated from Saint Ignatius College Preparatory in 1972. After a circuitous undergraduate journey, I earned my bachelor’s degree from Santa Clara University in 1979. Three years later, I enrolled in a master’s program at the University of San Francisco, graduating in 1984. The education I received has served me well personally, professionally, and spiritually.

    One of the basic principles of Jesuit education is derived from the spirituality of Saint Ignatius of Loyola. “Finding God in all things” is both a challenge and an invitation.

    It’s relatively easy for us to recognize the presence of God in the good experiences of our lives. I was overwhelmed with this feeling in the moments following the birth of our first son, Tom. As I held the precious new life in my arms, I had an experience of being completely immersed in God’s love. It was a sacred moment. It’s a bit more challenging to recognize God’s presence during difficult times.

    When confronted with a painful situation, I am invited and challenged to ask, “Where is God in this?” The answer may not be immediately identifiable. It often took me a while to finally understand that, even in my darkest hour, God was with me — supporting me and loving me. The task of finding God in all things is one of the most valuable lessons I learned in my years of Jesuit education.

    I also learned that God loves me unconditionally, and more so that I will ever be capable of comprehending. 

    Ralph Waldo Emerson summed-up another lesson I learned from the Jesuits. He wrote, “The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.” Have you ever noticed that you never see a U-Haul trailer behind a hearse? When we die, we can’t take anything with us. We can, however, leave something of value in the world and in the lives of other people. 

    One of my Santa Clara classmates has made a positive difference in the world. Janet Napolitano was the valedictorian at our 1979 undergraduate commencement exercises. She went on to serve as a two-term Governor of Arizona, the Director of Homeland Security, and President of the University of California school system. She made an excellent point when she said, “You don’t go to university so you can punch a clock. You go to university so you can be in a position to make a difference.”

    Making a conscientious effort to see God in all things, to recognize the beauty, presence, and power of God in everything, is one way we can all make a positive difference in the world. I will be forever grateful for the consequential lessons I learned from my years of Jesuit education.

  • Grateful!

    “Appreciation can
    make a day,
    even change a life.
    Your willingness to
    put it into words
    is all that’s necessary.”
    ~ Margaret Cousins

    When it comes to appreciating what others have done for me, I’m pretty good about putting my gratitude into words. Sometimes those words are communicated in a hand-written thank you note or a thoughtful email. Occasionally I express my gratefulness in a blog post. Perhaps most often, I express my appreciation through spoken words. I’ve quoted William Arthur Ward many times in the past eighteen years. His words say it all: “To feel gratitude and not express it is like wrapping a gift and not giving it.” Why would we ever do that?

    I’m a bit overwhelmed with gratitude today. This morning, while enjoying breakfast at Jack’s on Saratoga Avenue with an aspiring writer, I received a phone call from Kathy informing me that eleven cases of my newest book, Through the Lens of Gratitude, had been delivered to our home. I was expecting this delivery tomorrow, so it was a pleasant surprise.

    Opening the first box, digging through the packing material, and then holding the new book in my hands was exhilarating. Yes, it is the sixth book I have published, but I am confident that this book is the best of the six. Not surprisingly, a few words of gratitude are in order.

    First, I would like to thank Sister Terry Davis, SND for the stunning image on the cover. Sister Terry also provided the cover image for my fourth book, Dad: 12 Questions… She is a gifted artist and an amazing person. I am grateful to know her and appreciative of her willingness to allow me to use some of her artwork on the covers of my books.

    I’d also like to thank Raelene Weaver, a local licensed marriage and family therapist and author of the highly-acclaimed book Let Boys Be Kids First. Raelene, having read the manuscript, wrote a gracious “blurb” about the book for the back cover. 

    Finally, I’d like to thank the team at Balboa Press in Bloomington, Indiana for their assistance with putting the book into print. Balboa Press is the self-publishing arm of Hay House Publishing in Carlsbad, California. Hay House president Reid Tracy describes his company as “a mind-body-spirit transformational enterprise.” They are the largest publisher of self-help books, events, and courses in the United States.

    Through the Lens of Gratitude is available on Amazon for $20.99. For those living in the San Francisco Bay Area who are able to purchase a copy of the book directly from me, the cost is only $20.00. I’m happy to sign any of these books. A book with a personalized message from the author is an ideal gift for a family member, friend, or coworker. 

    Gratitude truly does make a difference!

  • A Good Man

    “Waste no more time
    arguing about what a
    good man should be.
    Be one.”
    ~ Marcus Aurelius

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, an American writer, philosopher, and poet, observed, “We sometimes meet an original, who, if manners had not existed, would have invented them.” I am grateful to know such a person. In fact, I’ve known him since the earliest days of my childhood. His name is John Hurley.

    John’s parents and mine were great friends. Getting together with the Hurley clan was always an enjoyable experience. In the early to mid-1960s, our families vacationed together, first at Redwood Rest Resort in Boulder Creek, then at Pine Grove Resort in Lake County. Those vacations were better because we shared them with a number of other families, most notably, the Hurleys. 

    John has devoted his life in service to others as a nurse. His years working at San Francisco General Hospital, and then at Children’s Hospital in Oakland, provided him with a wealth of experience. An invitation to teach in the School of Nursing at the University of San Francisco gave John an opportunity to share the knowledge, wisdom, and passion for nursing he had developed through his career.

    For an episode of the early 1990s television sitcom Northern Exposure, television writer Diane Frolov wrote a statement with which I strongly disagree. She wrote, “People are simply incapable of prolonged, sustained goodness.” While this may be a fairly accurate statement, I am blessed to know a few people who are exceptions to this rule. John Hurley is one of them.

    From his earliest days, John has been consistently kind, thoughtful, and caring. His life has been, and continues to be characterized by genuine goodness. Conservative talk show host Dennis Prager pointed out, “Goodness is about character — integrity, honesty, kindness, generosity, moral courage, and the like. More than anything, it is about how we treat other people.” This explanation of goodness would be equally accurate if used to describe John Hurley. 

    The legendary Jamaican reggae singer, Bob Marley, claimed, “The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.” Using Marley’s measure of a man, John is a great man. This might explain why any time I’m engaged in conversation with someone and John’s name comes up, I always hear the same thing: “What a great guy!”

    Richard Carlson, author of many books including Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, wrote, “Make living your life with absolute integrity and kindness your first priority.” John Hurley has embraced this concept. Over breakfast yesterday morning, he told me that one of his favorite sources of inspiration comes from the words of the Dalai Lama who said, “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.”

    Some individuals make a conscientious effort to “be good.” While this is commendable, author Eckhart Tolle believes that “you don’t become good by trying to be good, but by finding the goodness that is already within you.” John Hurley has found this goodness within himself. Those who know him recognize and appreciate this. He truly is a good man.   

  • The Courage to Let Go

    “The paradox of identity
    is that it is always
    in the making
    and never complete.”
    ~ Amartya Sen

    It was a Tuesday evening in 1982. I was sitting in what was known as the “small hall” at Saint Christopher Church in San José. Thirty-five or so members of the high school youth group were gathered for our weekly meeting. The topic for discussion that evening was “Who Are You?” As the youth minister for the parish, my role was to facilitate the discussion.

    There is much I do not recall about that evening. It was 42 years ago. What I do remember is the activity with which we began the discussion. I asked for volunteers. Several students willingly agreed to participate. One at a time, I asked them, “Who are you?” Most responded by giving their name. “Who else are you?” I then asked. This question required a little more thought.

    “I’m the son/daughter of my parents” was often the next response. As I repeated the same question over and over, each student had to dig deeper into who they were. “I’m a brother, sister, friend, neighbor, grandchild, student, athlete, Capricorn, 49ers fan,…”

    This memory emerged this morning as I pondered the topic of the impermanence of identity. I was 28-years-old when that discussion was held with the Saint Christopher youth group. Who I was then is quite different than who I am today. In 1982, I was young, single, energetic, hopeful, and physically active. I was a teacher, coach, youth minister, athlete, and part-time night security guard at a local cemetery. I lived alone in a small house in Santa Clara and drove a 1972 Volkswagen bug. I was inexperienced, yet confident about myself and my future. I had so much to prove to myself and to the world.

    Fast-forward to 2024. I wouldn’t say that I’m old, but I’m definitely not young. I’m married, less energetic than I was in my twenties, and definitely less physically active. I am retired from a career in teaching. I live in a comfortable home in West San José and drive a 2005 Honda Accord. I have a good amount of experience in a number of areas. I’m a brother, friend, husband, father, and “Papa” to five beautiful grandkids. I am a published author, an occasional speaker, and a promoter of gratitude and positivity in the world. 

    Who I am today is quite different than who I was in 1982, and yet, at the core, I’m very much the same person. While I am considerably less competitive, judgmental, impulsive, and critical, I am significantly more patient, tolerant, empathetic, and content with my life. Today, I have nothing to prove to myself or to the world. It’s a wonderful feeling.

    I wholeheartedly embrace the myriad versions of myself. I would like to believe that, like a good bottle of wine, I’ve gotten better over time. Author Doug Cooper made an excellent point when he wrote, “Identity cannot be found or fabricated, but emerges from within when one has the courage to let go.”  

  • Just Admit It!

    “To realize that you
    do not understand
    is a virtue.” 
    ~ Lao Tzu

    I have had extensive experience in life with being asked questions to which I did not know the answer. This happened quite regularly in the classroom during my elementary and high school years. Why did my teachers have to ask me to explain concepts from the text book when I hadn’t gotten around to doing the assigned reading? This also happened when I took the California Driver’s Test and questions were asked about the consequences of driving under the influence of alcohol or drugs. While preparing to take the test, I had skipped over that section in the driver’s handbook, since I didn’t drink or use drugs.

    Later in life, I was challenged with a number of questions on various topics to which I did not know the answer. I’m embarrassed to admit that, at times, rather than admitting my ignorance, I did my best to bullshit my way through a response. Sometimes it worked, but not always. I think that’s a guy thing.

    In my years as a teacher, there were many times when students would ask me about things I knew little or nothing about. I never had a sense that they were intentionally trying to trap or embarrass me. They simply had valid questions to which I was unprepared to respond. I had been warned, early in my teaching career, that students have a built-in BS detector, so the best way to handle such a question was to honestly admit that I didn’t know. Then I had two options. I could tell them I’d get back to them the next day with an answer, or I could compliment the student on the quality of their question and ask them to research the answer and share it with the class the next day. Both strategies seemed to be effective.

    German-born teacher and writer Eckhart Tolle wrote, “Sometimes surrender means giving up trying to understand and becoming comfortable with not knowing.” While this may be true for some, teachers don’t have this option when confronted with a valid question from a student. It also wasn’t true when I found myself in a transitional job working at Kennedy Business Machines in San José. I was hired by someone who knew me, someone who had recognized my strong organizational skills. I was totally unprepared for the job, yet there I was as the new Operations Manager of the organization. During my first week on the job, one of the salesmen stopped by my desk and inquired, “When are the 300’s coming in?” I had no choice but to humble myself and ask a series of questions:

    “Um,… what are 300’s?

    The look on the salesman’s face was priceless. “Uh,… typewriters.”

    “Who makes them?” My question was greeted with another disconcerted look.

    The salesman slowly and clearly responded, “Canon!”

    Only then could I turn to the file cabinet to find the purchase order which would indicate the expected arrival date for the products. I’m sure the salesman returned to the sales office with some choice words about the new Operations Manager.

    Television and magazine writer Nell Scovell pointed out, “Sometimes, not knowing what you’re doing allows you to do things you never knew you could do.” This was certainly my experience working at Kennedy. In the brief six months I worked there, I learned the job, familiarized myself with the products they sold, and reorganized both the purchasing desk and warehouse to improve production. No one was more surprised than I was.

    Susan Wojcicki is the former CEO at YouTube. Acknowledging that our world is ever-changing, she said, “Part of being successful is being comfortable with not knowing what’s going to happen.” When we recognize that we don’t know what’s going to happen, we are less likely to get broadsided by the unexpected when it happens.

    The idea of acknowledging that which we do not know is not a new concept. The philosopher Socrates said, “True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us.”   

    So the problem is not that there are things we do not know. The problem arises when we fail to recognize, or refuse to acknowledge, what we do not know.

  • Safe at Home

    “A ship in harbor
    is safe,
    but that’s not what
    ships are built for.”
    ~ John A. Shedd

    To read the title of today’s blog post, one might think I’m writing about the conclusion of last night’s San Francisco Giants’ home opener against the San Diego Padres. With the score tied at 2-2, Thairo Estrada’s double off the left-center field wall in the bottom of the ninth inning knocked-in the winning run and sent Giants fans home happy. Yes, it was a close play at the plate, but the home plate umpire immediately called the runner safe to end the game. With that said, today’s blog post is not about baseball.

    It might be upsetting for some to acknowledge this, but leaving home and returning safely is an underrated blessing, something most of us take for granted. All too often, someone who wakes up, gets dressed for the day, grabs a bite to eat for breakfast, then heads out the door — to work, to school, or to run errands — is deprived of the opportunity to return home safely. For some, it’s a medical emergency. For others, it’s an auto- or work-related accident. And for a few, it’s an act of violence which prevents them from returning home at the end of the day. This is simply a reality of life.

    Helen Keller reminds us, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.” Let the truth be told. While the chance that we will return home safely each day is very much in our favor, it cannot be denied that life is a daring adventure.

    Does this mean that we should do what we can to avoid the possibility of some harm coming to us? This is an option, I suppose, but not one most of us would choose. Brazilian author Paulo Coelho offers a thought about this. He wrote, “If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine, it’s lethal.”

    There is no doubt that life involves a level of risk, so it might be prudent to consider the word risk as an acronym: Responsibility, Insight, Safety, Knowledge. To live our lives in such a way that we integrate these four factors into everything we do, we can certainly minimize the risk of unexpected harm coming to us. Attentiveness to these factors is critical to our personal safety and well-being.

    The words of a traditional Irish blessing are also comforting:

    “May angels fly with you
    wherever you roam
    and guide you back safely
    to family and home.”