Tim Winders has been publishing his podcast weekly for over six years—more than 300 episodes of hour-long conversations. When Craig Constantine asks why he keeps going despite the work being a “net negative” financially, Winders doesn’t talk about audience growth or business strategy. He talks about something else entirely.

I’m able to talk to people for roughly 60 minutes without any interruption. It nourishes my soul, and I love it. That’s the real foundation.

Notice what comes first here. Not “I serve my listeners” or “I help my guests share their message” or even “I’m building thought leadership.” The foundation—his word—is that the conversation nourishes him.

This might sound selfish. We’re conditioned to think about dialogue in terms of service: listening well means focusing entirely on the other person, asking questions for their benefit, creating space for them to be heard. The good conversationalist, in this framing, disappears into attentiveness. Their own needs don’t enter the picture.

But Winders is pointing to something different. He keeps showing up, week after week for six years, because the conversations feed him. That’s what makes them sustainable. And sustainability, it turns out, is what makes them possible at all.

There’s a counterintuitive logic here. If Winders approached each conversation as pure service—draining his own reserves to fill someone else’s cup—the well would run dry. At some point, the depletion would show. The conversations would become performance rather than presence. Instead, because he’s being genuinely nourished, he can keep offering something real.

What if this applies more broadly? What if being fed by the conversation yourself is precisely what makes genuine dialogue possible?

Consider what happens when we enter a conversation focused entirely on serving the other person. There’s a subtle performance in that stance—we’re working at something, monitoring ourselves, managing an exchange. The focus on being helpful can paradoxically create distance, because we’re not actually present. We’re executing a service.

But when a conversation nourishes us—when we’re genuinely curious, genuinely engaged, genuinely getting something from the exchange—we show up differently. We’re not performing generosity; we’re participating in something mutual. The other person can feel that difference.

Winders is clear-eyed about what else the conversations provide: content to repurpose, visibility for his coaching practice, material for articles and clips. He’s not naive about the practical dimensions. But he names those as secondary. The foundation is the nourishment. Everything else builds on that.

This reframes a question worth asking before any conversation: what might I receive from this, not just give? Not as a calculation—what’s in it for me?—but as an honest inquiry. If there’s nothing that might nourish you in a potential dialogue, that’s worth noticing. And if there is something, letting yourself be fed by it might be what allows you to offer something genuine in return.

This field note references the Podtalk episode “Persistence with Tim Winders,” published March 31, 2025.