Weavers of reality

The inspiration for this post comes from a recent exchange I had on X, and at the core of our existence as founders is we are world-builders.

The world, as we know it, is a tapestry of solutions.

From the Stone Age - when the challenge was as primal as sparking fire to cook a bison or light a wood fire - to today, where we’re grappling with intelligence gaps through artificial intelligence, one thing has remained constant: the world has problems, and it needs solutions.

But solutions don’t show up out of nowhere. They’re not accidents. They don’t arrive as flashes of genius from thin air. Solutions are forged through discomfort, persistence, and iteration. They are the byproduct of a relentless loop of action, reflection, and refinement - run over and over until the breakthrough happens. That loop is the engine of progress.

Every solution is, at its core, a form of technology. Fire. The wheel. Iron. Printing press. Electricity. The airplane. The internet. ChatGPT.

The irony is, the more foundational a technology becomes, the less visible it is. Once a breakthrough embeds itself into everyday life, we stop noticing it. It dissolves into the background. We don’t wake up in awe of electricity. We don’t marvel at airplanes cruising at 35,000 feet. And most of us no longer pause to appreciate the miracle of having a near-infinite intelligence at our fingertips with ChatGPT. It’s just… there. Part of the furniture.

But make no mistake - every technology we take for granted today was once dismissed as impossible, or impractical, or insane. Until someone built it. And then built it again. And again, until the world bent around it.

That’s what founders do.

We don’t just build products. We build new realities.

Founders are reality-weavers. World-builders. Architects of the previously unthinkable. And that’s not poetic exaggeration - it’s a responsibility. A spiritual one, almost. Because to be a founder is to refuse to accept the world as it is. To see not what exists, but what could exist. And then make it real.

The divine doesn’t show up in robes and thunderbolts. The divine moves through agency, obsession, and unreasonable ambition. It lives in humans who feel chosen - not by birthright, but by will. Some of us have to build. Not for the money. Not for the praise. But because it’s the only way we know how to live.

And the things we build ripple outward. They shift culture. They shape behavior. They become the scaffolding of the future.

That’s not mortal work. That’s sacred work. Done by the few, in service of the many.

So if you’ve ever felt that pull - that tension between the world as it is and the world as you believe it should be - don’t ignore it. That’s your signal.

Because maybe, just maybe, you’re one of the vessels. We’re not ordinary mortals. We are world-builders. Weavers of realities that the rest of the world eventually finds palatable. What begins as delusion in our minds becomes the default mode of life for millions, and if you’re lucky enough perhaps a few billion even.

-G Chola