The One Thing More Powerful Than a Solution
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We’ve all been there, someone shares a problem, and before they’ve even finished speaking, we’re already assembling answers in our minds. "Have you tried…?" "What you need to do is…" We rush to fix, advise, and troubleshoot, believing that the best way to care is to solve.
But what if the most powerful thing we can offer isn’t a solution at all?
What if, in our urgency to do something, we’re skipping the one act that actually creates space for real change?
This isn’t about withholding help, it’s about recognising that sometimes, the deepest healing begins not with an answer, but with being seen.
Before you offer another piece of advice, before you jump into problem-solving mode... pause. The truth might surprise you.
(Keep reading, this could change how you help forever.)
In a quiet valley where the wind carried stories through golden grass, there was a village paralysed by fear. For generations, the people whispered about the terrible creature that lurked at the edge of their fields, a monstrous, bloated thing with mottled green skin that hissed when the wind blew through its vines. They called it The Devourer, and mothers warned their children: "Go near it, and you'll never return."
One day, a traveler arrived, a man of sharp eyes and braver feet. Hearing of the monster, he marched straight to the field. "A monster? Let me see this beast for myself!"
There, lying in the sun like a sleepy god, was a watermelon. Seeing no threat, the traveler drew his knife, sliced into its belly, and tasted its ruby heart.
The villagers, watching from behind the trees, clutched each other in horror. "He’s eaten the Devourer!" they gasped. "What kind of man feasts on monsters?" Convinced he was something far worse than what they feared, they drove him away with stones and shouts.
Seasons passed. Then came another traveler, this one with kind eyes and patient hands. Instead of mocking their fear, he sat with them. He listened as elders spoke of the Devourer's wrath, as mothers described nightmares of being swallowed whole. He nodded and asked, "What if we faced it together?"
Slowly, he earned their trust, first the children, then the farmers, then even the most fearful elders. He led them, step by gentle step, to the field. One day, he brought them to the sleeping “beast” and said, “Let us sit with it together.”
He touched it. Nothing happened. Then he tapped it. Stillness. Then, with careful hands, he split it open, revealing glistening red flesh studded with black seeds.
"Taste," he urged.
One by one, they did. The sweetness burst on their tongues. The next spring, watermelons grew not just in the wild fields, but in every family's garden.
And so the greatest terror of the village became its favourite harvest. The lesson lingered like the juice on their fingers: Fear is often just hunger misunderstood.
We all have our "watermelons."
You know, those things in life that seem terrifying at first glance, but when someone finally helps us approach them with care, we realize they were never monsters at all. Maybe it’s a difficult conversation you’ve been avoiding, a career leap you’re afraid to take, or an old wound you’ve learned to tiptoe around.
But here’s the twist: Sometimes, the way we try to "help" others face their watermelons can make things worse.
The story that I just told you is not just a folktale—it’s a mirror. The villagers weren’t afraid of the watermelon; they were afraid of what they imagined it to be. Sound familiar?
The job change you avoid because "what if I fail?"
The relationship you stay in because "what if being alone is worse?"
Our brains fill gaps with fear. The antidote isn’t facts: it’s safe experience.
Forced Truth Feels Like Violence
Traveler #1 wasn’t wrong... he just skipped the most important step: trust.
Ever tried to convince someone:
"You shouldn’t be sad!"
"Just get over it!"
It doesn’t work. Because before people can change, they need to feel understood.
Healing Happens in Relationship
Traveler #2 didn’t fix the villagers. He walked with them until they could see for themselves.
That’s the magic of good therapy, coaching, or friendship: Not "Let me do this for you." But "Let’s figure this out together."
How to Approach Your Own "Watermelons"
If You’re the One Afraid:
Name the Fear
"What exactly am I avoiding? What’s the worst that could happen?"
Find a Safe Guide
A therapist, mentor, or friend who listens before advising.
Take One Small Step
Touch the watermelon before trying to cut it.
If You’re the One Trying to Help:
Pause the Fix-It Reflex
Replace "Here’s what you should do" with "Tell me more about what scares you."
Let Them Lead
People heal when they choose to step forward, not when they’re pushed.
Check Your Motives
Are you helping for their sake, or to feel like the hero?
The Sweetness on the Other Side
The villagers’ "monster" became their favourite fruit.
What’s yours?
Maybe it’s that conversation, that dream, that long-buried emotion. Maybe it’s not as dangerous as it seems.
And if you’re the guide for someone else’s journey be the traveler who sits with them first, not the one who rushes ahead.
Because the best truths aren’t told. They’re tasted.
Now, Over to You:
(Drop your thoughts in the comments, let’s unravel some monsters together.)
