Published on Thoughful I am five years old. I’m in my bedroom with my coloured pencils and colouring book. Opening the book, I grab a pencil and start colouring. And then, it happens—the thing that always happens to kids my age. I simply cannot stay inside the lines. I am frustrated. It is SO FRUSTRATING! Crying out for my mum to save me from this colouring disaster, she opens the door. “What’s wrong?” “Help!” She sits next to me. She takes a pencil. She shows me how to do it. “Stay calm, take a deep breath, and move the pencil around the edges of the picture, like this,” she explains. I watch her carefully. I follow her instructions. I fail a few times. And then, like magic, I am no longer going outside the lines. I am a colouring genius. And all it took was one word—help. It has taken me a couple of decades, some academic research and a little reminiscing to get to this simple truth… that in a weird way, help is like glue. When something is broken, vexingly incomplete, help is the b...