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)

  • Life’s Challenges

    “The challenges  
    never disappear.  
    They simply  
    change form.”     
    Beth O’Leary

    Everyone experiences challenges. No one escapes. Clearly, some challenges are significantly greater than others, but coping with, and ultimately overcoming the difficult times and situations in our lives is a shared experience. 

    When I was in elementary school, challenges included being accepted by my peers, struggling with concepts in math and science, and dealing with the consequences of phone calls from my teachers to my parents. During my four years of high school, my greatest struggles centered around my academic performance, or lack thereof. I had not developed adequate study skills. My parents, and even some of my teachers, expected that I would attain the type of academic success achieved by my older brother. That never happened. 

    Generally speaking, throughout much of my life, challenges were few and far between. My achievement level finally caught-up, and occasionally exceeded, my ability level. For the most part, I made good choices. I am convinced that much of the good fortune I experienced had to do with the people I chose to hang out with. My tribe didn’t engage in excessive drinking or dabble in the use of illegal or controlled substances. I drove responsibly. Whether it was school or work, I did what I needed to do to open doors of future possibilities. 

    Parenting brought on a whole new set of challenges, many of which I was totally unprepared to handle. I considered myself to be a responsible, conscientious parent. In reality, I parented with blinders on my eyes, believing that my kids wouldn’t get involved in many of the vices which tempt kids today. I honestly didn’t even consider the possibility that any of my kids would make poor, sometimes self-destructive decisions. I was wrong. Such is the reality of raising kids in the new millennium. 

    As much as I loved my job for many years, I was confronted with a variety of workplace challenges along the way. I was able to handle most of them with dignity and professionalism. As time went on, however, and the environment in which I worked grew to be increasingly toxic, the challenges increased and became insurmountable. Poor leadership, and an alarming lack of integrity by key players in the workplace, led to my decision to retire prematurely. It was the best decision I ever made. It came as no surprise to me that one year after my retirement, the school was permanently closed.

    In my retirement, my goal was to write. I’ve done so, and I continue to do so. I’m on the verge of publishing my seventh book in ten years. While the writing and publishing have gone well, other challenges have arisen in my life. Some of these have proven to be far more problematic than any I experienced in my younger days. Despite the current burdens with which I am confronted, I can look around and see others, many others, who are carrying crosses in their lives far heavier than the ones with which I struggle.  

    As author Beth O’Leary points out, “The challenges never disappear. They simply change form.” Thankfully, our ability to cope effectively with these challenges also never disappears. We are constantly given opportunities to develop new, innovative strategies for coping with whatever difficulties come our way. With a positive attitude and a focus on gratitude, none of these challenges are insurmountable.

  • My Sister, Cathy

    “Education is the most  
    powerful weapon which  
    you can use to  
    change the world.”       
    Nelson Mandela

    I am fairly certain that my sister, Cathy, never expected to read an article in which she was mentioned along with Nelson Mandela, Carlos Santana, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Well, today the unthinkable becomes a reality. Today’s blog post is about Cathy. I will rely on the words of these better-known individuals to help me explain why I am so proud of my sister and why, in a world where social media is filled with self-proclaimed, often misguided “influencers,” Cathy has been, and continues to be, a truly authentic influencer in the world. 

    In her professional life, Cathy was an educator. She began as a classroom teacher in private schools before answering the call to teach in public schools. She excelled as a teacher of math. In a world where many good educators are not recognized for the positive effect they have on their students, Cathy’s effectiveness in the classroom was both recognized and appreciated. This led to opportunities for her to share her expertise and experience by teaching math educators more effective ways of teaching math.

    In her years at WestEd, a non-profit research, development, and service agency working to improve learning and opportunities for students, Cathy was called upon to travel around the country and the world advising school and district administrators, along with classroom teachers, how math might be presented in ways better suited to student learning. Her experience at WestEd took her around the United States and to a variety of overseas locations including Japan, Guam, Brazil, Germany, and Canada.

    A quote by Nelson Henderson, which apparently has its origin in an ancient Greek proverb, tells us, “The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit.” Cathy has devoted her entire life to doing this.

    Even in her retirement years, Cathy has continued to make a positive difference in the lives of countless people. I have no reason to believe that the legendary guitarist Carlos Santana knew Cathy personally, but his words accurately describe the way she has lived her life. He said, “There is no greater reward than working from your heart and making a difference in the world.” This is precisely what Cathy has done — and continues to do.

    The counter-cultural message of American writer Ralph Waldo Emerson also encapsulates Cathy’s life. 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.”

    Cathy has lived well and continues to live well. It’s interesting that while Emerson tells us that the purpose of life is not to be happy, when we commit ourselves to living a life of honor, compassion, and service to others, as Cathy has, happiness is the inevitable byproduct.

  • It’s Relative

    “What good is the 
    warmth of summer 
    without the cold of winter
    to give it sweetness.”
    John Steinbeck

    What an amazing difference six months can make. In July 2025, Kathy and I enjoyed a pleasant visit to Bristol, Rhode Island to spend a few days with our friends, Steve and Karen Aveson. Steve and I were high school classmates. They have a beautiful home, with a cozy guest cottage, in the heart of Bristol. While we were there, we were privileged to witness the historic Independence Day parade. The 4th of July celebration in Bristol is the oldest continuous Independence Day event in the nation, active for over two centuries.

    While the parade was quite entertaining, I noted that one of the strategies for truly enjoying the experience was to find a place in the shade to watch the parade pass by. It was hot and humid in Bristol in July. That was then.

    Now, six months later, it’s a bit cooler in The Ocean State. The low this morning was 1º. (That’s not a typo!) The high in Bristol today will reach only 26º. With the wind blowing between 10 and 16 miles per hour, the wind chill factor, a term with which Californians are not at all familiar, will make it feel even colder.

    While I am incredibly grateful for our visit to Bristol in July, and for the warm hospitality offered to us by Steve and Karen, I am, perhaps, even more grateful to be in San José today, where the morning low was a cool, but mild 46º, and today’s high is predicted to be a comfortable 63º. I cannot begin to imagine what it would be like to go out for an afternoon stroll in Bristol today.

    The San Francisco Bay Area has a few summer days each year that could be described as hot. And we have a few days each winter that we might claim are cold. In reality, most Californians have not experienced the extremes of summer and winter which grip other parts of the country annually. And I think it’s safe to say that we can’t even imagine what it must be like to experience these things.

    Steinbeck’s words ring true. It is the cold of winter which enables us to truly appreciate the warmth of summer. 

  • Monday, 01/19

  • Afternoon Walk

    “Above all, do not lose  
    your desire to walk.”   
    Soren Kierkegaard 

    What was I thinking? (How strange that I’ve been asking myself this question for decades.) I ventured out on a walk yesterday afternoon. I left home around 4:00 and returned about 5:30. I had no particular destination in mind. I just walked aimlessly through the neighborhood enjoying the late afternoon sun and savoring the fresh January air. It was a most refreshing respite from a day of writing and the responsibilities of helping to care for our active two-year-old grandson. As I was about thirty minutes into the walk, it dawned on me that I hadn’t given much thought to what I’d been thinking about.

    This surprised me a bit, because I recall the words of Mahatma Gandhi who said, “A man is but the product of his thoughts. What he thinks, he becomes.” Considering this warning, perhaps I should pay more attention to my thoughts, but yesterday’s walk was not for thinking. It was an experience of emptying my mind and allowing myself to be in the present moment and in the presence of God. Not surprisingly, it didn’t take long for my thoughts to kick-in and interrupt the serenity of that moment.

    I began thinking about places I’d been, opportunities I’d been offered, and experiences I’d enjoyed. I started thinking about people I have encountered in my lifetime — from my early childhood years to the present day — and how I have impacted their lives and how they have impacted mine. I thought about decisions I’d made in my lifetime, not doubting those decisions, but wondering how my life would be different had I chosen a different option.  

    With all these thoughts swirling about my head, I thought about the memorable words of the French philosopher and novelist Albert Camus. He wrote, “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.” Bingo! That’s how I was feeling. Here we are in mid-January, and even with myriad thoughts spinning around in my consciousness, I was filled with the peace and serenity of a summer afternoon.

    Afternoon walks, as it turns out, are a great time for thinking. By no means are they a waste of time. In fact, German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche claimed, “All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking.” I am grateful for the time I had yesterday to both clear my head, and then reflect on what’s truly important in my life at this time. 

    Thomas Jefferson claimed that “walking is the best possible exercise.” I wholeheartedly agree. I am also inspired by the words of Confucius. He said, “It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” The pace at which I walked yesterday was relatively slow, almost as if I were wandering deep in thought around the grounds of the Jesuit Retreat Center in Los Altos, but I have no plans to stop walking any time soon. 

  • Disappointments

    “There is no normal
    life that is 
    free of pain.” 
    Fred Rogers

    The reconstructive knee surgery was successful. Brendan is home now, experiencing the all-too-familiar challenge of limited mobility. This, too, shall pass. It won’t be long before he’s back out on the basketball court.

    Brendan’s positive mindset does not make him immune from the disappointment of having his growing player development business interrupted by this injury, but as author Mel Robbins remind us, “Disappointment is a sign that you had expectations; it’s a sign that something didn’t turn out the way you had hoped. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

    Rather than sitting at home feeling sorry for himself, Brendan is using this time to connect with and continue to support his clients, several of whom are playing competitive basketball at various high schools in the area. He’s editing video footage to create highlight reels of these athletes doing their workouts or playing in games. He continues to send out promotional materials to potential clients in and around the South Bay. 

    Brendan is able to do all these things because he understands the three-step process for coping with disappointment — accept, reflect, move forward. With this surgery being the second significant procedure in less than one year, accepting the reality of the injury is a little easier this time around. During his days in the hospital, and even now at home, he has time to reflect on what happened and how he’s going to deal with the temporary setback. And he’s already beginning the process of moving forward, adjusting his schedule to accommodate physical therapy appointments and investigating options to continue to support his clients in spite of his physical limitations. 

    One factor which reveals the personal growth Brendan has experienced in the past year is his sense of gratitude. He understands the words of the Greek philosopher Epictetus who said, “He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.” Brendan’s mobility is severely limited for a while, but his knowledge of and passion for the game of basketball is unchanged. He still has much to offer his clients.

    When I see how Brendan is handling this difficult situation, I am reminded of the words of American writer Ralph Waldo Emerson, who wrote, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”

  • Resilience

    “Everything negative — 
    pressure, challenges — 
    is all an opportunity 
    for me to rise.” 
    Kobe Bryant

    Kobe Bryant’s quote reminds us that we have the ability to reframe adversity as opportunity. We have the opportunity to embrace fear and dedicate ourselves to a relentless work ethic to overcome obstacles. Wise words from one of the best professional basketball players ever to play the game.

    My youngest son, Brendan, is quite familiar with what has come to be known as the Mamba Mentality. Brendan, who will be 34 in March, looks to Kobe as a role model both on and off the court. The image above depicts Brendan at a workout at the gym on Friday, May 3, 2025. Sadly, three days later, doing the same thing at the same gym, he sustained a total rupture of the patellar tendon in his right knee. The following day, he underwent reconstructive surgery and began a long process of recovery.

    From the time I first arrived at the hospital the evening of May 3rd, I was impressed with Brendan’s attitude. As disruptive as it was to his new career providing individual training for athletes, his focus was on recovery, not self-pity. This positive outlook, and his commitment to rehabilitating his knee, enabled Brendan to be back on the court, both coaching and playing basketball, within six months. His doctor had predicted that recovery would take a full year. Since that time, his new business, True Form Basketball, has experienced consistent growth.

    One might think that after such a successful comeback, Brendan would have been devastated when this past Monday, January 12th, he sustained a similar injury in his left knee. He is back in the hospital recovering from yesterday’s surgery to repair the torn tendon. Despite the setback, he is, once again, turning to the inspiration of Kobe Bryant, who had his own physical setbacks, including a season-ending torn Achilles tendon, during his playing days with the Los Angeles Lakers. The Mamba Mentality is a mindset focused on relentless self-improvement, hard work, and the constant pursuit of becoming the best version of yourself, both on and off the court. In Kobe’s own words, it’s about “focusing on the process and trusting in the hard work when it matters most.”

    Former Carnegie-Mellon professor Randy Pausch, in his now famous The Last Lecture, said this about dealing with obstacles in life: “The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something.”

    Brendan knows what he wants, and he’s not going to let a torn tendon stop him from pursuing his goals with passion and commitment.

  • Which Road?

    “Two roads diverged 
    in a wood, and I — 
    I took the one  
    less traveled by…”
    Robert Frost

    The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost, was first published in The Atlantic Monthly magazine in August 1915. Over the next 110 years, it would become one of the most inspirational and oft-quoted poems in American literature.

    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 
    And sorry I could not travel both 
    And be one traveler, long I stood 
    And looked down one as far as I could 
    To where it bent in the undergrowth.

    Then took the other, just as fair, 
    And having perhaps the better claim, 
    Because it was grassy and wanted wear; 
    Though as for that the passing there 
    Had worn them really about the same.

    And both that morning equally lay 
    In leaves no step had trodden black.
    Oh, I kept the first for another day! 
    Yet knowing how way leads on to way, 
    I doubted if I should ever come back. 

    I shall be telling this with a sigh 
    Somewhere ages and ages hence: 
    Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — 
    I took the one less traveled by, 
    And that has made all the difference.

    In some ways, I can apply Frost’s words to the life I’ve lived. The expectation that I would follow in my Dad’s footsteps and enjoy a respectable, worthwhile career in the San Francisco Fire Department were high. When opportunities arose in my life which offered me a view down a different path, I had the courage to take that path, knowing full well that it would not be as financially lucrative, nor as highly respected, as the road my Dad had taken. I always thought Frost’s poem was extolling the virtues of taking that less traveled path.

    Which road is the better option?

    Recently, I’ve come to understand this highly expressive literary piece in a different way. This perspective begs the question Which road is the better option? In fact, I’m even prompted to ask Which road is truly less traveled?

    We live in a throw-away society. Use it, then dispose of it. If an appliance breaks, replacing it is significantly easier, and often more cost-effective, than attempting to repair it. For many people, when a newer version of the iPhone is introduced, the one they have loses its appeal and they desire the newer model. At times, those around us consider it foolish for us to hold on to something we’ve had for many years, insisting that we would be significantly happier with the updated, perhaps more reliable, version of the product. Most people, it seems, are intent upon keeping up with the current trends and having the latest and greatest of everything. Why? Three reasons: because they can, everyone else seems to be doing it, and people who know us expect that we should do so as well. If that’s the norm in society, and it seems to be, then the road less traveled might actually describe making a commitment to repair the older, sometimes unreliable refrigerator, watch, television, cell phone, lamp, mattress, faucet, car,… 

    Whichever road we choose, there is always a risk that we will experience the ache of imagining the road we didn’t take. I find solace in the message of American journalist Katie Couric. While speaking on the value of overcoming challenges along unconventional paths, Couric explained that the road less traveled may be harder to navigate, but the rewards at the end, even though not guaranteed, have the potential to be even greater.

  • Monday 01/12

  • “And on the 7th day…”

    “Do not let your  
    Sundays be taken  
    from you.”   
    Albert Schweitzer

    Today is the second Sunday of 2026. As I mentioned last week, one of my goals for the new year is to reclaim Sundays as a sacred day. There are a variety of definitions for the word “sacred” in the dictionary:

    1. Devoted or dedicated to some religious purpose;
    2. Entitled to veneration;
    3. Pertaining to religion;
    4. Reverently dedicated to some person, purpose, or object;
    5. Regarded with reverence.
    6. Secured against violation or infringement;
    7. Properly immune from interference:
    8. Worthy or regarded with respect.

    So what do I mean when I say that I want Sundays to be sacred for me? Well, there are many ways I can do this which encompass several of these definitions.

    Growing up in a Catholic family, Sundays meant going to Mass. After high school, as is so common with graduates who move out of their parents’ home to attend college, I got in the habit of not attending Sunday Mass for a while. When I did go to church, it was usually because the Sunday night Mass at Santa Clara University was as much a social event as a spiritual one. 

    Throughout my life, even though I attended Mass more often than not, there were a few periods when Mass attendance was rare for me. Then I found myself working for the Catholic Church, and attendance at Sunday Mass was part of my job. Was it a sacred experience? Honestly, most of the time, it was work.

    By 2013, I had become so disillusioned with the Church, especially at the local level, that I stopped going to Mass altogether. So how does one make Sunday sacred if not attending church services?

    Making Sundays different than the other six days of the week is a good starting point. Beginning this year, I’m not writing on Sundays. (I’m writing this blog article on Saturday night). I’m going to engage in self-care more often on Sundays. This will include taking walks, reading, visiting with friends, spending time with family, or doing anything else that does not involve my laptop or my cell phone. In fact, there’s no reason for me to have my cell phone with me at all on Sundays.

    I can also make an extra effort to look for opportunities to be kind to people. This is something I try to do every day, but I could be even more attentive to these opportunities on Sundays.

    Most important of all, I can spend more time than I usually do reflecting on the people, things, events, opportunities, and memories for which I have to be grateful. For me, this is best done setting aside periods of solitude. Whether I go to a park, Hakone Gardens in Saratoga, the beach, Lake Vasona in Los Gatos, or to a coffee shop in a neighborhood where it is unlikely that I’ll run into anyone I know, immersing myself in solitude enables me to better focus on the many blessings in my life.

    In 2026, my commitment to myself is to conscientiously do everything within my power to embrace the words of Albert Schweitzer and minimize the possibility of anyone taking my Sunday away from me.