Trying to Help Others from Self Help to Fantasy Novels


It takes two to change things.

For as long as I can remember I have been trying to help the less fortunate. I helped a classmate in primary school and she finished it. I helped a dyslectic high-school student and he finished high-school. I wrote a book about coping with mental illness Balancing the Beast – A Bright View of Schizoaffective Disorder, mostly because I wanted to inspire other people in a similar situation.

Of course there were many cases, in which I could not help the person. I remember a mother who kept hugging her four-year-old son, whenever he had hit his younger brother, who was two. She explained to me that her older son needed more attention, that way he would stop hitting his brother. I tried to persuade her it was probably the other way around: the four-year-old knew he would get attention, so he hit the two-year-old. The lady never listened to me.

Similarly, I often tell ladies who complain about their husbands to concentrate on their virtues instead. They never listen. Their thinking patterns are too strong to change, which keeps relationships stagnant.

I learned over the years to back off. I tell my opinion and let go. An advice is like planting a seed. It’s no help to step on the soil over the seed in impatience and tell it to grow. One has to wait for the seed to grow. And bear in mind that some seeds never grow.

In addition to that, I believe that trying to help all your friends and family is greedy. One should be happy with having helped some of them.

I tried to depict some of my worries about others in my fantasy novel with romance Out of the Forest and into the City (Vivvy and Izzy the Dwarf: A series about relationships Book 1):

“I struggled with this for a long time. However, in the end I had to realize that no matter how sincere and devoted I might be, I could never help everyone.

I even had a reassuring dream shortly after Catherine stopped rehearsing with us:

I was riding around the countryside with Catherine at the wheel. In real life, I was not a driver, but in the dream I surprisingly knew how to drive a car. I noticed that Catherine had problems shifting gears. Initially I was too polite to say anything, yet later it started to get on my nerves. All of a sudden I exclaimed:

“Oh, Catherine! You cannot shift gears like that! You have to do it smoothly. There is too much noise coming from the engine, every time you shift!”

“But how am I supposed to do it? This is the only way I know how!” She looked at me desperately and stopped the car.

“Let’s change seats. I’ll show you.”

So I drove around and shifted gears as often as possible for about half an hour. Then we changed seats again. Catherine had not learned a thing. On the contrary, her shifting had gotten worse.

That was the dream. It was very vivid and I remembered it very well in the morning. Thus, it must have had a hidden message. In dream interpretation a car usually means one’s job or business. It was Catherine’s car, so it must have meant her job as a secretary. In the dream I was interfering with it. I was trying to teach her how to do her job. The old Wizard of Dreams said that in dreams we should always drive our car and not let others drive it for us. It had been wrong of me to drive Catherine’s car. I had to let her drive it her way. Which in real life meant that I should let her stammer. I should leave her alone and stop trying to help her. At the end of the dream there was a very significant feeling overwhelming me: the feeling that her way of driving the car was acceptable and didn’t need to be improved.”

Take care,

Helena Smole, author of:

– a fantasy novel with romance Vivvy and Izzy the Dwarf: A series about relationships

Balancing the Beast, a book offering a bright view of schizoaffective disorder ˗ bipolar or manic-depressive type

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