Keep Looking Up

It wasn’t rocket science that changed me—it was a telescope, pointed not to the stars, but straight at my very own compass.

When I first joined Future of Space, I thought I was clocking in for another day in the performant, pixel-pushing world of social media. What I got felt more like the pop of cosmic champagne: a wake-up call that shimmered.

Their ethos—"embrace new frontiers, celebrate the human experience, elevate the conversation"—was more revivalist than mission statement. Suddenly, what was vague inside me found its constellation. Here’s the glittering headline: The things you put out into the universe makes a differnece.. Trust me, nothing will humble you like trying to translate your soul’s intentions through the algorithmic blackjack tables, unless, like me, you know how to really watch, read the silences, decode the half-smile, and spot the difference between a polite nod and genuine delight. (Non-native English speakers: consider yourselves the secret agents of social nuance.)

My favorite metric is not about likes or followers, but the significant changes that happen when you make someone feel seen with a simple comment or motivate action with a story. Real change isn’t measured in vanity stats—but in that tingling moment when invisible threads connect people, even if just for a heartbeat.

Forget the golden rule. Try the platinum one: Don’t treat others as you want to be treated—treat them as they want to be treated. It’s not about reading the room, it’s feeling its heartbeat. That’s how brands turn into communities and posts into invitations. Which is why, when my organic campaigns outperformed paid ads by 46x, or a YouTube channel skyrocketed because genuine need was met before it was whispered, it wasn’t accidental. Trash the vanity metrics, torch the follower factories (you can’t fake belonging).

These days, I’m less interested in churning out content and more in weaving resonance. Who cares what you reach, if you don’t actually touch anyone?

In a world starved for meaning, I’ve got enough stardust to promise this: I’ll keep observing what’s unspoken, keep nurturing spaces where humans can actually connect, create, and maybe, even just for a moment...remember why we look up at all.

Because the only metric that matters is whether you made someone’s world feel bigger—no telescope required.