Feeling Like a Ghost in My Own House

What's up, everyone? Welcome back to another episode of Founders Journal. I'm your host, Alex Lieberman, co-founder and executive chairman of Morning Brew. Before we hop into the show, I have a 10-second favor to ask of you. We have tons of new listeners to the podcast, and my goal is to get to know as many of you as humanly possible. So either before you start this episode or right after you finish, shoot me an email to alex@morningbrew.com. If you want the easiest option, like the 10-second option, just say hi in the subject line and I'll respond, getting the conversation going. If you're trying to be a little bit more ambitious, maybe like a 30-second response, shoot me an email telling me a little bit about yourself and why it is that you listen to Founders Journal. I cannot wait to get to know many of you over the coming days. And now for today's episode, it is time for a true Founders Journal. This morning I stepped outside of my apartment. I sat down on a bench by the water as I looked at the New York City skyline. Very dramatic, I know. I opened my journal and I just started writing. What I am about to read to you is exactly what I wrote in my notebook, reading from my notebook. Let's hop into it. Yesterday, I had this weird feeling of being a guest in my own home. Let me explain what I mean. I've had this feeling before, but I don't always think I was aware of it. I was doing work on the 2nd floor of Morning Brew HQ while a lot of people were doing work around me. Salespeople were talking about ad deals. Product people were talking about new features on our website. I saw my co-founder Austin running in and out of meetings, and I was just there working on my own stuff. Some Morning Brew stuff, some StoryArc stuff. I was watching a revenue strategy meeting led by some of Morning Brew's senior leaders, and I just had this weird feeling that I was out of place and I didn't belong. On one hand, everyone was working on things related to a business that I helped create and build. On the other hand, I felt like an outsider. Lots of people that I've never met and who may not know me, conversations and strategies that I'm no longer a part of. I don't know how else to describe the feeling other than feeling like a stranger. Now, I know this is a story, like any story we create in our heads, but I think it is interesting to examine why I feel this way and what I can take from this experience. For starters, I definitely have knowledge FOMO. When I see people talking about the intricacies of the business or Austin talking strategy with our super impressive and intelligent senior leaders, I feel FOMO that I'm missing out on key learnings that would help grow my mind And my abilities as an entrepreneur. Second, I'm trying to reframe these thoughts and feelings as an opportunity and a gift. I think it makes a ton of sense that I have these thoughts, and I acknowledge myself for being able to notice them and sit in the not-so-great feelings of isolation and envy. I also respect the fact that this entire story I created in my head is a byproduct of my own creativity and curiosity and wonder, Which are all great things, and I would never wanna get rid of. Third, I actually welcome learning FOMO. I think it's an awesome quality that leads me to staying curious and growing intellectually. I just think I need to be careful and creative about how I harness it. For example, if I acted on my own learning FOMO by looking to work as, say, an executive at a large media company, that would probably be a bad idea because a love for learning about something is very different than a love for doing the thing. Very simply, I would hate being a big company executive. But I do think if I get creative, I can solve learning FOMO effectively. As my wife suggested, maybe I ask leaders at the Brew for time to chat. Maybe I watch recorded internal videos of leadership meetings or strategy sessions. Maybe I reach out to media executives from companies of varying sizes. Like I said, there are lots of options, and FOMO can actually be helpful fuel if I have a little creativity and the appropriate behavior. But beyond FOMO, why did I find this experience yesterday provoking? My theory is because it made me face my last chapter in life while sitting in my current chapter all at once. As I watched people working on different things, but all contributing to a singular vision of making Morning Brew the biggest business media brand of our time, I couldn't help but feel envious. It reminded me of the passion I had while working in the trenches of the company and all of the times I told people how I had the best job in the world and I wouldn't trade it or change it for anything. And then my brain did this weird trick that so many of our brains do. It judged my thoughts and feelings of envy. How could I feel envious and sad about what I'm experiencing? I should— and should is a dangerous word— I should feel grateful for the opportunities that my company has afforded me, and I should feel excited that 200+ people are excitedly working on this business every day. And so I both experienced an envy of those working on the Brew today, as well as a feeling about the feeling while also sitting in the reality of my new chapter, which is a lot less clear and in some ways a lot more uncomfortable than the previous 8 years of my life. But I want to use this reflection as a reframe because our thoughts and our feelings aren't good or bad. They just are. But our level of self-awareness around our thoughts and feelings and what we choose to do with them That is what's really important and what really matters. There's a great quote by James Clear that offers me comfort and grounding in this moment. He said, before you discover what you love, have fewer commitments and more experiments. After you discover what you love, have fewer experiments and more commitments. As I think about my life in the context of this quote, my shift out of the day-to-day of Morning Brew has shifted me from more commitment and fewer experiments to fewer commitments and more experiments, which with that framing makes my feeling of directionless make complete sense. You see, at least traditionally, direction exists when you have a clear endpoint, and a clear endpoint comes from commitment to a thing. Whereas when you're in the phase of experimentation, your life is less about direction and more about exploration and wonder. Which in a funny way is exactly where I want to be at this very moment. Until next time, I love you all. Thank you so much for listening to Founders Journal, and I'll catch you next episode.