This Tuesday Gordon and I had an interview with a senior media relationship coordinator of Western Carolina University. Gordon graduated from there with a BA in History and a minor in Political Science. I didn’t graduate – my scholarship was cut and I couldn’t afford to go – but I did attend for a bit.
It was an interesting trip down the memory lane. A lot of memories were good, like sitting in a nice grassy spot eating campus Taco Bell for lunch. Some were painful – no, we don’t have any pictures of our time together, because processing film and cameras were expensive and they weren’t in the budget. We’ve talked about what we had hoped to achieve and what we have. It was a fun Zoom interview.
For a couple of days now, I had this vague feeling following me around like a cartoon cloud and I finally identified it. It’s the realization that one, we’re getting older and two, shouldn’t we have achieved more by now? A kind of amorphous suspicion that somehow we’re failing to hit some invisible mark.
When you think about it logically, this seems a bit absurd. There is a laundry list of bragging points on the About page, and yet somehow, there is still this weird insecurity about not having done more. I don’t even know what that more is.
In a lot of pagan religions, people would assign gods to every aspect of their life, and these gods sometimes had very specific roles. Goddess of childbirth. God of a stream behind the house. God who helps thieves and another god who helps to guard against them.
If I were a pagan, I would call the god responsible for those vague, uneasy feelings the God of Falling Short. His sole job would be to manufacture internal dissatisfaction and anxiety. He would be responsible for making you guilty about not monetizing your hobbies, for making you miserable because you decided not to commit to a higher paying job that required a lot more hours, and for keeping you awake at night so you can beat yourself up about missing a golden business opportunity. It would be married to the Goddess of Parental Guilt, so they could unite and double down on making you feel guilty about your failures as a parent.
The God of Falling Short would be a surprisingly dangerous god. Our survival mechanisms are very powerful. As soon as we achieve something, they push us to move the goal posts and try harder and do more. I’d imagine it’s hardwired into us to keep us from dying. If a prehistorical clan found a good spot with a river teeming with fish and berry patches nearby, soon they would range out, looking for an even better spot, because you never know when a drought might dry up the river and kill the berries and you might end up starving.
And then, of course, once a god like that comes into being, there would need to be a counter-god, the God of Small Happiness. I found that the best way to combat the dissatisfaction with your life and imposter syndrome is to take pleasure in the small moments. Yes, we might not getting as much of whatever it is we want but right now, right this second, this tea is delicious and it feels so nice to drink it. Yes, I could be a better housekeeper and make sure my house looks prettier, but this book I’m reading is a lot of fun and I’m happy reading it.
The God of Falling Short feeds on insecurity. The God of Small Happiness makes you feel cozy and safe.
May the God of Small Happiness bless you this week.
This really resonated with me today. I feel like the God of Falling Short is taking out its anger on me right now. I found out earlier that the job I had interviewed for—the one I really wanted and thought I’d be good at—is going to someone else. I’m heartbroken. It surprises me, though, to think that the authorlords have those feelings too. Your New York Times bestsellers! You write exciting books and have a BDH that loves you! You’re great!
I’ve been so touched by all the kind and comforting things everyone has said to you. I want to apologize to the BDH, though. A few years ago, you had shared some info about moving to another state, and everyone was giving you advice. I thought they were overdoing it and said so. I was wrong. It’s wonderful to have so many people who care so much about you. I don’t think you two take it for granted. Thank you for listening.
I like the god of Small Happiness. I’m a mental health professional and sure often I take with people about falling short of who we think we are supposed to become. A very wise woman told me years ago that we are always becoming so we will never finally make it to that place we think we are supposed to achieve. It was very helpful and allowed me to let go of the god of falling short. Its the journey that’s important, the destination awaits us all and it’s death. Small happinesses are miraculous. Thanks for sharing them.
I disagree that you are falling short. You are both amazing writers. Millions of devoted fans wait for your books to come out. You appear to have raised independent and happy daughters and are loving parents. You adopt and support cats and dogs. However the animals should kill the scorpions. Please don’t doubt you or Gordon.
Thank you so very much for that post. It brought to mind the many, many moments where that whisper said ‘not good enough’. But every time I think of the road not taken or the decision that cost me money that I could really use now or look at my house and see clutter and mess versus Southern Living page 47 — my husband reminds me how blessed and fortunate we are, and thanks me for walking our dog, refilling his glass of tea, or for “being wonderful”. The God of Small Kindnesses works through the ones who love you.
THis is EXACTLY what I needed to hear/read this week.
Thank you SO much. I feel better already.
Faith
Thank you.
I needed this.
Turning 70 this year.
Speaking of the “God of Falling Short”, I have meant for years to write you both a letter expressing how much joy your work brings me and never have, so here goes.
ANYTIME you think you have not accomplished as much as you should, please think about the 50 some amazing books you have published (rough count as I look at my bookshelf) not to mention all the short stories, blog posts, and wonderful community you have built here. I am not a “blog person.” I think this is the second time I have actually come to the site and commented as I pretty much just signed up for the emails to make sure I never missed a new book. But in reading the sporadic emails I do, and the recent dedications in your books, it is clear that not only are you talented writers, you are good people. I know it’s specific stuff selected for the blog and you are human and all that, blah, blah, blah, but we can tell even through that, the genuine characters you have.
I am fortunate enough to be at a point in my life where my needs are met. But also at the point where there aren’t many things that give me the old “Christmas morning” excitement/anticipation that happened when I was younger. But the one material thing I treasure and still makes me this happy is a new book from you two.
I horde them for a months after they are released (although I buy them as soon as a print version is available) and then when I’m feeling really down I start by re-reading all the prior books in the series and then finally, finally, read the new one. This has become more of a challenge with the Kate Daniels series :).
I have moved a lot in my life, and your books have become old friends, comfort during difficult times…fantastical places to escape reality for a few minutes or hours. My “happy place” is outside in a hammock on a perfectly crisp fall day, trying to slow myself down from reading the entire new book of yours all at once. It doesn’t matter who the characters are, what series it is, I always know it’s going to be superb.
Being an adult doesn’t bring much joy these days, but you do. Your books do. You make a difference, more than you can ever imagine.
Thank you from all of us.
One Saturday recently, Hubby and I were perusing the shelves of our local adult Disney World (a new Publix, WaHoo!)when we came upon a small framed saying: “Love is being Stupid together.” We came to a stop, enchanted by the wisdom of the essayist immortalized on the grocery wall. Of course we had to purchase one of the framed messages for our home. We hung it on our family portrait wall where we have many photos of us proving this wisdom. My daughter and her family came over for dinner a few days later, and on a visit to the “necessary, she happened to see our new addition and insisted she wanted a copy for her own home! Since the occasion of the shared meal happened to be her birthday (which we usually always celebrate for a week for each of the children) I promised to pick up one for her as an additional love gift. 🙂
The point of this rambling story is that it IS a truism-we are often the MOST stupid with the ones we love, simply because we know that if it is true love, the feeling will be reciprocated and life will go on happily because we have someone that we can be ourselves with and know that they will stay and love us anyway!
When GoFS taps on my shoulder, I sigh and tell him: “I’m just trying to live my life man”.
And also, as I once told my mother (context forgotten), “Not everyone can be outstanding – some of us have to be mediocre!”
You both seem like you’ve done a great job so far though, just my opinion 🙂
This needs to be on a poster….. love it. Reminds me that we are not all on this planet to exceed “beyondour wildest dreams’, but to be human. We, none of us are “faliures”, we do what we do, some days good, some days bad, but living in the NOW, is where we are …. I find its the reaching for that makes us miserable. Just be here…now.
When I first read this blog a couple of days ago, in a short break snatched from too much life happening, it brought me to tears. While the comments confirm that these feelings are nearly universal, it still shocked me that someone as accomplished as Ilona could feel that way. You’ve all got a good handle on it though as long as you can remember it.
I know there are lots of places in my life where I haven’t lived up to what I should have been, and I wake up some nights and worry about what a rotten person I really am. One way I try to deal with it is remembering that I have been forgiven by Someone who is much nicer and smarter than I am, and another way is to spend some time every morning thanking that Someone for all the good things in our world–bookstores and electricity and functional indoor plumbing and sewage treatment plants, just to name a few. Asking that these blessings be extended to the rest of the world helps keep me focused on trying to live up to being better. I can’t say I worship the God of Small Happinesses, but stopping to say thank you is a big part of my daily happiness.
Speaking of which, House Andrews has been a huge source of happiness and this blog has been terrific. And someday, hopefully at a time which does not cause you undue stress, we will have many more lovely books of yours to read. Having thousands or millions of people who look forward to your books means you have a great influence and you have succeeded beyond the wildest dreams of most authors. It’s ok to wonder what might have been if things had gone differently, but I think the lives you have lived have enriched your books tremendously.
Small happiness is not so small after all. It is everything. Contentedness, if I can make that a word, is so important. This combats my dissatisfaction, insecurity, my have I done enough. I think about the challenging path to med school, the challenging path through med school, and the challenges since med school. Not all brightness and glee. To combat any insecurity my sitting in the right now-ness, never comparing myself to others, my content at having a right now comes through. This keeps me from competing with others online, from being dissatisfied with right now, and just grateful. So grateful to be able to read your work. Thank you for all your efforts. Thank you for struggling through.
Gosh, I needed this so much! Thanks for making me realize I am not alone… and also reminding me of the importance of the small moments of happinness in my life.
your writing makes me so happy! please take joy in that, I know I do.
This was very thought-provoking. Thank you.
This really resonated. Thank you.
As someone who is getting older (69), this deeply resonated with me. I have so many half-done hobbies, and I should have pursued my writing, maybe had a different career. This god of God of Falling Short can be a real Debbie Downer. But then I read about the God of Small Happiness and how this is telling us, yet again, to live in the moment we have and not dwell where we either don’t live anymore or haven’t made it to yet. Thank you, I needed this.
We always referred to that “falling short” feeling as ‘Catholic guilt’ (12 years of Catholic schooling). I like your explanation better, in major part because you’ve provided an antidote. I can get behind a ‘God of small happiness’ quite happily. thank you.????
And you as well. THank you.
so so true … i can identify with the God of falling short …
i like the idea of God of small happiness …