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

Balance Won’t Save You. Elimination Will.

Lately, I’ve been distracted. Not just here and there — for the better part of two weeks. Every time I sit down to write, something pulls me away. Half the time it isn’t even important. Just noise. Like a squirrel darting across the floor, my focus chases after it.

In the past, I might have shrugged and said, that’s life. But not now. I know what I need, and I know when I’m drifting. If I don’t set boundaries to recenter myself, I’ll spiral deeper into distraction.

We live in a world built on distractions. And the common advice? Find balance. I don’t buy it. Balance works for a moment, but distractions always creep back in. What’s worked for me isn’t balance — it’s elimination. If it’s gone, it can’t pull me.

Of course, what works for me might not work for you. And that’s the tricky thing about advice. I love hearing other people’s stories, but I’ve learned to take them for what they are: their maps, not mine.

I read something recently that nailed it:

Most advice sucks. It’s well-intentioned, but it’s dangerous to use someone else’s map of reality to navigate yours, even if they’re experienced. Winners learn to filter and selectively implement advice. Take the signal, skip the noise.

That hit me. Distractions are everywhere. Advice is everywhere. The real work is figuring out what’s signal and what’s noise in your life — and having the discipline to eliminate what doesn’t serve you.

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.