Last Monday, GaryVee said something during a Tea With GaryVee that just clicked…
“So many people should literally take a job at a company or for someone they want to be, make content every day with what they’ve learned that day for 2 to 3 years, and then they will become.”
The moment I heard that, I knew I had to do it.
I like this content format for a few reasons:
Content can be made with minimal editing.
I enjoy creating content that educates people through my personal experiences.
The videos can be transcribed and easily turned into this newsletter.
It forces me to focus on learning and builds my brand as I do it.
What I’m Learning Working at VeeFriends
I’ve been at VeeFriends for a little while now. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that growth doesn’t arrive all at once. It sneaks in—disguised as a tech issue, a missed plan, a quiet compliment, a slow Friday. You think you’re just doing your job. Then one day you pause, look around, and realize: you’ve changed.
It started with a delay.
We had GaryVee scheduled to jump onto a livestreamer’s show. I’d run this kind of tech setup dozens of times before—get them into OBS, patch Discord audio, prep the visuals. Easy. But when it came time to go live, everything fell apart.
What was supposed to be a seamless stream turned into twenty minutes of scrambling. I was shocked. We tested this. Why isn’t it working now?
Gary was sitting beside me, calm. No urgency in his voice, no annoyance. Just, “Let me know when it’s ready.”
I offered to reschedule. He waved it off. Then—an idea. We FaceTimed the streamer. I handed Gary my phone, opened the laptop so he could see the chat, and finally, it clicked. Stream was rolling.
But here’s the part that stuck with me: instead of jumping straight into content or pointing out the delay, Gary led with praise. Complimented the streamer’s setup. Talked about how much he enjoyed watching their work. Made the most of it. A 15-minute slot turned into 40 minutes of focus on this one person.
That moment taught me more than any technical fix ever could. Leadership isn’t just about being right or ready—it’s about being gracious when things go wrong.
The next day, I learned about communication.
If Gary could stay that composed and focused, what’s my role in making his time easier? How do I make sure the rest of the team isn’t caught off guard when we’re moving a million miles an hour?
So I started sending more Slacks. Quick check-ins. Over-communicating—not because anyone asked, but because I saw how powerful it was.
And on a more tactical level—I learned that ChatGPT can solve almost anything.
OBS was giving me constant issues, and I didn’t know why… So I downloaded the OBS error logs and gave the whole .txt file to ChatGPT. It found the issue right away.
It would have taken me hours to fix it on my own (if ever).
In both cases, the message was clear: the faster you communicate, the more you grow—as a teammate, and as a problem solver.
Day Three, it hit me: I’m not the same person I was a year ago.
That day was chaos—but the kind of chaos I used to find impossible.
I was switching between product planning, shipping logistics, tech setup for Sunday’s livestream, a personal phone call, and even navigating a tough conversation with a coworker. And for some reason… it felt normal. Not easy, but doable.
A year ago, I’d have been underwater. Now, it was just another day.
I sat in one of my favorite conference rooms overlooking New York City and let the realization sink in.
The only reason today felt possible was because I had handled so many impossible days before it. The hard things expanded my capacity.
I thought about a line I heard from the Founders podcast:
“The reward for doing great work is more work.”
It’s both a warning and an invitation.
You must love what you do because if you do it well, you’ll have to do more of it with higher stakes.
But just when I thought I had momentum, the schedule flipped.
The next day, we had a 10 p.m. livestream set with Gary, but then I got the message—he was sick. First sick day in nine years.
That meant my carefully planned schedule was out the window. So I pivoted. We launched a solo stream from 6:30 to 8:30pm. I quickly gathered all the product to sell and came up with a streaming game plan.
What I took from that night wasn’t the sales—it was the reminder that adaptability isn’t optional, especially in live commerce. You can have the best plan in the world, but the job is to be ready when the plan breaks.
And then came the quietest day of all.
No livestreams scheduled. Gary was still sick. The kind of day you almost don’t recognize after a nonstop stretch.
So I did what sailors do when the sea is too rough to sail:
I worked on my nets.
I spent the day planning. Prepping next week’s shows as if Gary wouldn’t be back right away. Picking product to sell. Building schedules. Getting the foundation solid.
It reminded me that slow days don’t mean no progress. Sometimes, they’re the days that hold it all together.
So, what did I learn at VeeFriends this week?
That kindness matters more than control.
That communication scales faster than chaos.
That your bandwidth grows in the doing.
That plans are made to be broken.
And that even a quiet day has something to teach you—if you’re listening.
I don’t know where this path will lead me next. But if the last five days are any clue, I’m ready for whatever comes.
If you’ve made it this far, here’s something else:
Outside of work, I’m a photographer attempting to make my photography collectible.
Every Tuesday at 8pm ET, I go live on Whatnot to sell signed collectible prints.
In the last 7 months, I’ve sold ober 100 prints for $4,000.
If this newsletter resonates, stop by. I think you’ll like the prints.
We’re all learning all learning on the job.
Thanks for being part of mine.
Please keep updating these Ezra! 👏