My elders used to say, “Don’t fall so much in love with the ‘water’ that you forget to care for the ‘well’”.

For a long time, I understood that as a simple reminder to be grateful. To say thank you. To not take things for granted. But as I have grown—through my relationships, my responsibilities, and my own seasons of needing and being needed—I have come to understand that this wisdom is asking something much deeper of us.

It is not just asking us to receive with gratitude. It is asking us to live with awareness.

Because the “water” in our lives—the support, the encouragement, the insight, the presence we rely on—does not exist on its own. It comes from somewhere. More precisely, it comes from someone.

The “water” is what we receive. It is the friend who listens when we are overwhelmed, the person who shows up when we do not have the words, the one who offers guidance when we feel uncertain. It is the opportunity that finds us at the right time, the resource that meets a need, the financial support, the introduction, the advice that shifts our thinking. The “water” sustains us, and we all need it.

But the “well” is who made it possible.

The “well” is the person who chose to give. The one who made space, who offered time, who extended care, who poured from their own experience so that we might benefit. The “well” is not automatic. It is intentional. People decide—consciously or unconsciously—to be “wells” in our lives.

And yet, we live in a culture that teaches us to focus almost exclusively on the “water.”

For example, we celebrate outcomes. We highlight access. We reward visibility and results. We are taught how to ask, how to position ourselves, how to receive. But we are not always taught how to honor the person who made it possible. So we become skilled at accessing what we need, while remaining underdeveloped in acknowledging those who provide it.

Over time, this creates relationships that feel uneven. Not always visibly fractured, but quietly strained. Because when we consistently receive without recognizing the source, we begin to treat people as pathways rather than as partners. We value what flows to us more than who it flows from.

This matters now more than ever.

We are living in a time that is complex, demanding, and often overwhelming. Many of us are navigating uncertainty, carrying responsibilities, and leaning on one another in ways that are both visible and unseen. In moments like these, relationships are not optional—they are essential. And if we misunderstand the relationship between the “water” and the “well,” we risk damaging the very connections we depend on.

Part of that misunderstanding comes from our failure to recognize the cost of what people
give.

There is always a cost.

When someone listens, it costs them time.

When someone supports us emotionally, it costs them energy.

When someone offers wisdom, it often comes from something they have endured,
processed, and learned.

When someone shows up consistently, it costs them presence, attention, and sometimes
even parts of themselves they have not yet had the chance to restore.

If we only focus on what we receive and never consider what it required, we unintentionally diminish the value of the relationship.

And that is why we must learn how to care for the “well.”

Caring for the “well” begins with specificity. It is not enough to say, “I appreciate you.” While those words matter, they often lack the depth that true acknowledgment requires. Instead, we must name what was given and why it mattered.

Caring for the “well” also means remaining connected beyond moments of need. To reach out without an agenda. To say, “I was thinking about you today and wanted to check in.”

Reciprocity is essential. Even if it does not take the same form, we are still responsible for contributing to the relationship.

Finally, caring for the “well” requires us to learn how others “receive” appreciation and make our gratitude just as specific as our requests.

Reminder: And then, there are those of us who are the “well.”

The ones people call.
The ones people lean on.
The ones who show up—again and again.

Being the “well” is a gift. It is a calling. It is sacred work.

But it is not permission to be depleted.

If you are the “well,” you must also take responsibility for your sustainability.

As you move through your relationships, remember:

The “water” is what you receive.
The “well” is who made it possible.

And we need them both.

May you recognize the “wells” in your life and honor them with intention and truth.

I shared more about this in this week’s podcast episode, and I hope it meets you wherever you are. I invite you to listen to the episode here on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, and other platforms.

Blessings!
SharRon