C Lightfoot Uncategorized

Who Is In Your Room

That’s the question I’ve been asking myself the most lately.

Not because I don’t have good people in my life — I do. People who offer real advice, not the self-centered “what do I get out of this?” kind. But I’ve learned to be more careful with who I share things with. Not because I don’t need perspective from time to time… but because I’ve started paying attention to where that perspective comes from.

Because the people we spend the most time with… in a way, we become. If we’re not careful.

So when I say, “Who is in your room?” I’m talking about the people closest to you — friends, family, co-workers, whoever has access to your thoughts and your world. If you surround yourself with people who believe everything sucks, you’ll start carrying that mindset too. And if you surround yourself with people who are steady, grounded, and genuinely want to see you win, that rubs off the same way.

This question has been sticking with me because I see it constantly — especially when it comes to advice. People will tell their friends what to do in relationships, how to handle rough seasons, what decision to make next… and sometimes that advice isn’t coming from a clean place.

We all have a selfish side. Every one of us. That’s why it matters who we allow into our world — and what parts of our world we give them access to. The hard stuff and the good stuff. Because sometimes people aren’t rooting for you the way you think they are.

Sometimes it’s jealousy. Sometimes it’s insecurity. Sometimes it’s someone giving advice while they’re drowning in their own situation. And instead of being honest about their pain, they project it onto your life. What they call “help” is really just them reacting.

Pay attention to the person you turn to the most. If they always have drama, always have a problem with someone, always find something wrong in every situation… be careful. People who live in chaos usually want company. They don’t always mean to, but they’ll pull you down to their level because it feels familiar there.

You can spot it if you step back and look at patterns: constant complaints, nonstop gossip, always tearing someone else down, always “warning” you about everyone. Those are red flags.

So listen — but listen wisely. Take advice with a grain of salt. Watch the fruit, not the words.

And here’s the part I’m trying to remind myself of too: this isn’t just about judging other people. It’s about protecting what’s being built in you. Not everyone deserves a front-row seat to your life. Not everyone gets to speak into your next season.

Because if someone talks about everybody behind their back in front of you… they’ll talk about you the moment you leave the room.

So, who’s in your room?
And more importantly… are they helping you become who you’re trying to be?

C Lightfoot Journal

The Second Best Time

“The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is today.”

Yesterday I said tomorrow. That simple phrase has been echoing in my head lately. It’s a quiet reminder of all the things I told myself I would do — and haven’t.

I carry goals, dreams, little promises I’ve made to myself. But I’ve noticed how easy it is to push them off. Later. Tomorrow. And then tomorrow comes, and nothing has moved. I trade the weight of progress for the ease of the present moment. Comfort wins. But it never feels good when I look back.

When we pause and look over our shoulder, it’s hard not to feel the sting of what we didn’t chase. The doors we didn’t walk through. The chances we let pass. Time has a way of whispering that it’s too late, that we’ve missed it.

That’s why the parable matters so much to me. Maybe I didn’t plant my tree twenty years ago. Maybe I even wasted more time than I’d like to admit. But today is still here. The ground is still good. I still get to plant. And the real question is: do I want to look up in another twenty years, empty-handed again? I know I don’t.

For me, this is less about regret and more about reminder. A reminder that the past can teach me — but it can’t hold me. That the way forward matters more than the years behind me.

Looking back is useful when it shapes the way we step ahead. But sit in it too long and it becomes a trap. Regret can eat away at what’s still possible right now. The trick is to take what you’ve learned, breathe it in, and then move with it.

I think we forget sometimes that we’re not alone in this. Everyone struggles. Everyone has a tree they wish they’d planted sooner. And everyone gets the same choice: to let the past bury the seed, or to put it in the ground today.

C Lightfoot Journal

EVEN YOU CAN’T OUTRUN TIME

A reflection on energy, loss, and chasing the passions that matter most.

Where My Energy Goes

Lately I’ve been asking myself a simple but uncomfortable question: where is my time really going? For me, it has become increasingly important to give my energy to things that bring a positive value to my life — not spending too much time on the things that drain me mentally and physically.

Facing Time Honestly

But I wanted to go deeper than surface-level thinking. I started asking: how much time might I really have left here? The truth is, we just never know. No matter what any of us do, we simply cannot outrun time. As much as we want to fight it and find ways to prolong our existence, eventually there will come a time when we simply cannot run anymore.

Learning to Say No

As I continue to grow and learn who I am on a deeper level, I’ve realized that saying no has become easier. Too often we spend energy on things just for the sake of saying we did them — the concert everyone’s going to, the big sporting event, the crowded social gathering.

See, my social battery runs pretty low, especially as I have gotten older. It isn’t because I am not social, but I am much more selective in determining where my time and energy goes. Who is in the room? Because if the room is full of people that don’t share the same values as I do — then I have no problem leaving. What are we doing? Is what we are doing creating memories that will last, or is it just something to pass the time?

Choosing People Carefully

The people I choose to spend my time with will always be the most important decision I make. Who you surround yourself with has an incredible impact on you. And yet, so many of us spend too much time trying to impress everyone.

Now, I believe wholeheartedly in kindness. Daily interactions can leave lasting imprints. We all have an opportunity every day to show more love — even to people we don’t know. Holding the door, saying thank you, acknowledging someone with a smile — it seems simple, but we often forget. We get so caught up in ourselves that we overlook the people right beside us.

We can all show a little more kindness, but we also need to nurture the relationships that matter most.

The Lessons of Loss

One of the hardest parts of this journey is seeing people pass away. I know we’ve all dealt with that pain. I’m not sure it ever gets easier. Grief takes time, and it looks different for everyone. But the only way is through — process the pain, then pick yourself up and keep moving.

For me, loss has sharpened my focus on what really matters. It’s taught me to squeeze more out of life. If you allow it, death has a way of refocusing you on what’s important.

Stop Waiting

That passion you’ve put on the back-burner your whole life. That dream you’ve let slowly die inside of you because it felt safer to settle.

We can’t outrun time, but we can choose how to spend what we have left. So ask yourself: are you living, or just filling days? That passion, that dream, that thing that scares you — it’s waiting. The question is, are you still going to keep waiting?

Time won’t wait for you.

C Lightfoot Journal

Untie The Rope

Lately I have felt stuck. The last couple of weeks have felt heavy for some reason. It isn’t because I have been experiencing some life altering shift or anything of that nature. My mind keeps scattering. No single reason.

Maybe, I am in a season of change. I do feel my heart being pulled in several directions simultaneously. Deep down I feel as though I might be at one of those all too familiar crossroads. With several different voices in my head telling me which way to go. I think as we get older(I’m not old…) we start to understand that our time here is precious. Subtle reminders each day that we just aren’t as young as we once were. And that is okay- growing older can still be a lot of fun. You start figuring out exactly who you are. Not allowing yourself to do things that bring zero positive value to your life. It becomes much easier to say no to things. You start caring a little less about people’s opinions of you. You loosen the grip of where society says you “should” be. Run your own race. 

I will say this though-we do limit ourselves based on where the world thinks we should be… I heard a line the other day-I am not sure who said it: “Life starts at forty; the rest is just research.” I don’t fully agree. I think some people figure it out sooner; some later. But, the idea stuck. We give up too early. We tell ourselves it’s too late. We trade the thing that lights us up for the thing that feels safe, and then we call it wisdom. Some people chase the dream and realize it isn’t what they pictured. Others never chase it at all and live with a loop of what-ifs. I’ve been both—bold and hesitant. We can be the ones who get out of our own way. What would happen if you actually went after what was burning inside of you?  

Here’s the image that keeps coming back to me: a boat tied to a pier. The rope is familiar. It’s also the reason you never feel the open water. Untie it. Push off. Let the water get rough. Let it be on you to make it to the other side.

Now is all we have. The past is gone, and re-living it is just another way to waste the present.

I’m telling myself this as much as I’m telling you: just start.

C Lightfoot Journal

The Past Stays Behind

I used to live in the past. Replay the same mistakes. Carry the same anger. Until I realized it wasn’t punishing anyone but me.

Why do we keep letting our past get in the way of our future?

I get it. There are things we wish we could take back, words we shouldn’t have said, choices that led us places we never imagined we’d end up. But holding on to that weight only keeps us chained to what we’re trying to escape.

Let it go.

If you don’t, the life you deserve will keep slipping through your fingers. Real change begins with forgiveness, not just forgiving others, but forgiving yourself first. Because if you can’t forgive yourself, you’ll never truly know how to forgive anyone else.

For a long time, I couldn’t stand the person staring back at me in the mirror. I blamed everything and everyone before I ever took accountability. But nobody else made my choices. Nobody else got me here. That was all me. And once I owned that, everything started to change. I remember the day it hit me. I was staring at myself in the mirror, angry at the choices I’d made… but in that moment, I decided I was done living there.

People say, “Nobody ever really changes.” I couldn’t disagree more. Change starts with hard, honest conversations with yourself. You have to ask.. What do I stand for? Do my actions reflect my values? What am I putting out into the world, because whatever it is, it’s coming back.

This isn’t the time to go easy on yourself. It’s the time to dig deep. To face the memories you’d rather erase. It’s not fun, but it’s necessary.

And if you do it, if you stand on business with yourself, you will come out different. At first, the changes are small, almost invisible. But over time, they stack up. One day, you’ll look in the mirror and realize something incredible.

You like who you see.

The old you is gone. And in their place? Someone stronger. Someone freer. Someone ready for the future they once thought was out of reach.

If you forgave yourself today, how would your life change tomorrow?

Go a little deeper. Beneath The Surface…

C Lightfoot Journal

Unpolished

Because not everything has to be perfect to be worth sharing.

“In a world where nobody really knows anything, you have the incredible freedom to continually reinvent yourself and forge new paths, no matter how strange. Embrace your weird self. There is no one right answer… only better questions.”

— Tim Ferriss, Tribe of Mentors

“If the conditions don’t suit you, leave.”

— Epictetus

Starting a blog has been on my mind for years. I won’t lie, I was and still am a little scared.

I began journaling back in 2016. Looking at it now, it doesn’t feel like that long ago. As I look back through old entries, I realize how much material I’ve collected, little snapshots of my life.

A lot of people think of journaling as a dark corner where you hide your feelings from the world. And sure, sometimes it is. There are things I don’t think I will ever share publicly. My journals aren’t just about the lows, they’re about the highs as well. Writing has been my way of finding balance. When I stop, life feels heavier. When I write, even if it’s messy, I feel lighter. It’s become therapy in its own way.

Putting this out into the world still feels intimidating. I don’t really know what to expect from this blog, and maybe that’s the point.

At the end of the day, people will judge me no matter what. I’m okay with that. Because somewhere out there, someone might read this and feel less alone. And if even one person finds something in this; one line, one thought, one spark that helps them keep going, then it’s worth it. We all need to care a little less about what other people think of us. Don’t believe everything you think. Get out of your own way. 

So here I am. Writing. Sharing. 

C Lightfoot Journal

Standing in the Fire Isn’t Always the Answer

Sometimes Strength Means Leaving

Standing in the fire when life gets challenging is something we all know — in one way or another.

Whether you’re dealing with the loss of a job, the end of a relationship, or just the weight of everyday life… it can feel like you’re stuck in a tunnel, with the light slowly fading. Like the walls are inching in a little more each second.

Let’s be real: life is hard.

It’s beautiful, sure — but there’s no way around the fact that it can wear you down. And I’m not even talking about the big life crises. I mean the daily grind. The constant pressure. The mental weight.

Man, it can really beat you down.

And I know you feel it. Maybe you think you’re alone in it, but I promise you — you’re not. That neighbor you wave to while walking your dog? They’re feeling it too. Not in the same way, maybe, but in their own way.

We’re all facing something.

Standing in the Fire

Some people might call it “facing your problems” or “standing tall,” but this phrase has always stuck with me. I did it for years — or at least I thought I did.

There was a time in my life when I wasn’t happy. Actually, happy might not be the right word. I wasn’t at peace. There were moments of joy, sure, but never a deep sense of calm.

And really, that’s what I was chasing: peace.

But it felt out of reach — like something other people got to have, not me.

I thought I was dealing with my issues, pushing through, getting better every day.
But I was lying to myself. I wasn’t healing.
I was just “standing in the fire” because I thought that’s what strong people do.

What I wasn’t thinking about was this:
If you stand in the fire too long, you’re going to get burned.

I had a friend I talked to every couple of weeks. One day, I told him I was thinking about moving to Arizona. I said it felt right — like it was time. I could feel God nudging me. I knew in my heart that Denver was no longer where I was meant to be.

That season was over.

But my friend didn’t see it that way. He said:

“Maybe this is where you’re being called to be right now.
Maybe these challenges are here to help you grow.”

I get that. I really do. But he didn’t know what I knew — that I’d been in the fire for years.

I wasn’t growing anymore. I was stuck. And if something didn’t change, I was going to keep making the same mistakes over and over.

For me, the answer was clear: I had to go.

So I packed up my Tahoe — mostly books and clothes — and left everything else behind. I figured I could replace the rest.

With a loaded car and no real idea of what the future looked like, I drove 13 hours into the unknown.

One Year Later

A year and a half later, I can say with total honesty:

It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

People will tell you to face your problems head-on, and I believe in that.
You can’t run from everything. You can’t avoid discomfort forever.

But after you’ve stood in the fire long enough…
And nothing’s changing…
And you’re still hurting…

Maybe it’s time to move.
To shift.
To breathe.
To go where you can start again.

Start fresh.
Meet new people.
Carve out the life you actually want.

It’s scary. But it’s also freeing.

And eventually, you’ll realize:

The fire didn’t break you.
It refined you.

— C. Lightfoot
Scottsdale, AZ