I often think about how every invention, every piece of art, every line of code, every bridge or road carries within it a strange kind of destiny. Not for the creator alone, but for the countless people whose lives will intersect with it in ways no one can fully predict.

It feels like math in motion. One person builds a tool. That tool is used by ten people. Each of those ten creates something new, reaching a hundred more. Soon, what began as one spark travels through thousands, shaping lives silently, invisibly.

The equation looks simple at first:

One idea × Ten users × Ten choices each = A hundred paths changed forever.

But reality makes it exponential. Because the hundred paths go on to influence a thousand more, who then change ten thousand, and so on. Somewhere in that chain, a decision made in an office late at night alters the course of a stranger’s life decades later.

Think about it. The Wright brothers built a machine to fly. They could not have imagined a world where millions of people cross oceans daily, where families reunite across continents, where wars and peace treaties depend on the speed of flight. Their work became fate for generations they would never meet.

Even small things carry this power. A teacher explains a concept to a child who grows up to become a scientist who invents a medicine that saves millions. A coder writes a piece of software used by a startup that changes how the world communicates. A writer pens a sentence that keeps someone alive on a lonely night.

It is both humbling and terrifying. Because we rarely see the full map of what we set in motion. Every product we build, every idea we launch, becomes a node in a vast, infinite network of cause and effect.

It makes me believe that work is never just work. It is never just about today. It carries echoes into the future, multiplying quietly like numbers on a blackboard, until one day, far from where it began, it decides the direction of someone’s life.