Project ReNew

Episode 37: Pour

Jona - Project ReNew

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Pour  the quiet cost of constantly giving
You kept showing up.
Kept pouring, even when nothing poured back.
This isn’t burnout.
It’s something deeper.
A quiet unraveling.
Pour is a return to your why
before the noise, before the numb.
You don’t need fixing.
You need remembering. 

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Project ReNew

These are not just stories.

They are anchors.

Written in the after,

after the shift,

after the silence,

after the moment you wondered if you could still keep going.

This space isn’t loud.

It doesn’t shout advice.

But if you let it,

it might steady something in you.

A small pull toward the part of you

that still believes in why you began.

Not because it’s easy.

Because it’s yours.

 Pour 

You used to know why you did this.

Not the schedule,

 not the title,

 not the charting after midnight.

 The real why.

 The one that lit something in your chest,

 even on the worst days.

But somewhere along the way—

it started to fade.

Not all at once.

 More like a slow leak.

 You kept pouring,

 like it was instinct.

 Like you didn’t have a choice.

And maybe you didn’t.

There’s always someone waiting.

 A patient, a shift,

 a family member, a system that says,

 “Just a little more.”

So you do it.

 Again. And again.

And now?

You’re tired.

 But not just the kind of tired that sleep fixes.

 The kind that makes you forget

 what you even sound like when you’re not surviving.

That part matters.

Not because you’re weak.

 Not because you can’t handle it.

 But because you’re starting to drift so far

 from your own center

 that even silence feels loud now.

And that deserves your attention.

You don’t need fixing.

 You need remembering.

Who you are under all of this.

 Before the pressure.

 Before the praise.

 Before the parts of you went quiet to keep everyone else safe.

There is no award for disappearing.

So maybe today,

 you don’t quit.

 You don’t make a grand decision.

 You just notice.

How far you've come.

 How far you’ve drifted.

 And what it might take

 to come home to yourself again.