I achieved a big personal milestone this week, I published my first book: Falling in Love With Work, a Practical Guide to Igniting Your Passion for Work.
I am in Munich for two weeks and the author’s proof copy caught up with me here. I opened the envelope and held it in my hand and was speechless: here’s a book I wrote. A book. I wrote. In my hand.
I am officially a writer! Though, having been writing for six years now, one could suggest I was a writer before this moment. I’ve been writing, electronic publishing and blogging for over a year. There’s something, though, about holding a book you’ve written in your hands. It’s cool as heck.
I flipped through the pages, looking at the familiar words, and found my mind wandering back to other “firsts” in my life. I realized that a lot of my notable, personal “firsts” were a long time ago. I remembered my first marathon, twenty-five years ago, the first time I traveled outside of the US, twenty-six years ago, the first time I flew on a plane, thirty-five years ago—and for me, publishing this book is on par with those events. It’s funny—I’ve had many, many professional “firsts” in the last thirty years, and all of those were important, but they’re not the ones that sprung to mind as I reflected upon what this first means to me. I wonder if we become accustomed to firsts at work? My professional firsts are as important to me as my personal ones, so why are the ones that first sprung to mind the personal ones from twenty-five years ago?
I probably won’t figure this out by the time I finish this blog, so I am going to just enjoy being happy about my book! This is a great feeling and I will remember to transfer this feeling to my work “firsts” in the future—they’re as much about me as a person as this book is, and now I have even more opportunities to be happy at work.