Why Cosmoforge Was Built to Tackle the “Impossible”
You ever look at a goal so big, so tangled, that your brain just… stalls?
Like, you know where you want to go. Maybe it’s growth. Maybe it’s scale. Maybe it’s survival.
But between where you are and where you’re trying to get? It’s just fog.
Too many moving parts. Complicated tools. Conflicting advice. Limited resources.
And somewhere under all that noise, you’re just trying to move forward—but everything feels stuck.
I know that feeling.
Not just in business.
In life, too.
That moment where it all feels like too much, and you’re not sure what the next right step even is.
And look, I don’t have all the answers—but I’ve been in that place enough times to know one thing for sure:
You don’t overcome “impossible” all at once.
You break it down. You move. You build.
I was born blind in one eye. No big dramatic backstory—it was just how I came into the world. But when you start out missing part of your sight, you learn early on to pay close attention to what you do have.
That became kind of a theme.
For a stretch of time when I was growing up, we lived in the back of a van. My parents were doing everything they could to keep us afloat. Some days, that meant chasing work wherever it could be found. Other days, it meant choosing between food or fuel.
There weren’t family vacations or back-to-school shopping sprees. There was survival. And yet, in the middle of all that, I watched something incredible happen:
My dad built a business.
No shortcuts. No big capital. Just showing up, day after day, solving one problem at a time.
He laid tile. He fixed roofs. He took the jobs other people overlooked.
And slowly, job by job, client by client, he carved out something that could hold us.
Watching that as a kid did something to me.
It gave me this quiet, steady belief:
You don’t need perfect conditions to create something powerful.
You just need to start—exactly where you are—and keep going.
“At 17, I Built My First Organization”
I didn’t set out to start a nonprofit. I just wanted to get into a good college.
At the time, I was 17—motivated, ambitious, and looking for volunteer opportunities that would make me stand out. But most of what was out there for someone my age felt… limited. Folding programs. Stocking shelves. All good work—but I wanted to do something that actually lit me up.
So I built my own thing.
The idea came when I thought about kids in hospitals—stuck in bed for weeks or months at a time. I couldn’t shake the thought of what that must feel like. The isolation. The boredom. The fear. And I started wondering: What if we could help them escape, even for a moment?
That’s when I landed on virtual reality.
It was still early days for VR tech, but I saw the potential. Imagine being able to transport a child out of their hospital room and into the middle of a safari, or a rollercoaster ride, or outer space. That idea became the mission.
We set a goal: raise $250,000 to bring immersive VR experiences to pediatric hospitals across the country.
But we didn’t start with big donors or corporate sponsorships.
We started with cake pops.
Literally. My friends and I made them in a borrowed kitchen and went door-to-door selling them to neighbors. A few bucks at a time, we built momentum. That money funded the first gear purchases and helped us set up our initial pilots.
Then came the real work:
Cold outreach to VR startups for donated or discounted headsets.
A crowdfunding campaign to support delivery and training.
Partnerships with hospitals to integrate the tech safely and responsibly.
A team of high school volunteers (most of whom had never even worn a VR headset) trained to guide kids through each experience.
And somehow, piece by piece, it worked.
We didn’t raise $250K overnight—but we got there. And along the way, we brought real joy to kids who desperately needed something to smile about.
It taught me something I still carry today:
You don’t need permission to do meaningful work.
You just need a reason, a clear next step—and the willingness to knock on doors with cake pops if that’s what it takes.
“Saving My Best Friend’s Life”
A couple years later, I got a call that changed everything.
One of my best friends—someone I considered a brother—had been diagnosed with terminal cancer.
His only shot at survival was a bone marrow transplant. But there was a catch:
The odds of finding a matching donor for someone with his rare genetic markers were about 0.006%. Basically impossible.
At first, I did what most people do—I tried to balance it. Classes. Life. And helping however I could.
But it didn’t sit right.
I couldn’t shake this feeling: If this was going to be his last year alive, there was no way I was going to spend it sitting in lecture halls, pretending like everything was normal.
So I dropped out.
Not because I had a plan, but because I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
If there was even a sliver of a chance to find him a match, I was going to throw everything I had at it.
We didn’t start with a fundraising campaign or a strategy doc.
We started with a story.
We made a short video about our friendship, and our dream to spend whatever time we had left checking off a bucket list together. It was honest. Personal. Real.
In 24 hours, it had 500,000 views.
Today, it’s been seen over 250 million times across the internet.
That outpouring of support—people from all over the world reaching out, donating, offering help—made the bucket list possible. And #4 on that list? Break a world record.
So we got to work.
We created a social media campaign called Lemons for Leukemia, asking people to film themselves biting into a lemon and challenging others to do the same—all to raise awareness for bone marrow donation.
It spread fast.
Videos came in from schools, companies, celebrities. The campaign went global.
And eventually, we pulled off the unthinkable:
We helped break the world record for the largest single-day bone marrow donor registration drive.
And then… we found the match.
My friend got the transplant. His life was saved.
We ended up on Good Morning America, NPR, The Washington Post—but the biggest moment wasn’t the media. It was seeing what happens when people rally around a cause with clear purpose and real momentum.
That experience changed how I see everything.
When something feels too big—too hard, too unlikely—the answer isn’t to shrink the dream.
It’s to simplify the action.
One conversation.
One video.
One step.
And then another.
Looking back, none of the biggest things I’ve ever done started with a perfect plan.
They started with tension. A challenge that felt way too big. No clear path. Limited resources. And one decision:
We’re doing this anyway.
And what made it all work—whether it was launching a nonprofit at 17, helping save a friend’s life, or rallying global support with no budget—was the same simple rhythm:
Break it down. What’s the smallest, clearest next step?
Build momentum. Use what you have. Be consistent.
Track and adapt. Watch what’s working. Change what isn’t.
Repeat. Until the “impossible” gets done.
That became more than a mindset. It became a method.
Because the truth is, big goals aren’t achieved by people with the most resources. They’re achieved by people who keep showing up with direction.
And eventually, I realized this wasn’t just useful for nonprofit work or mission-driven projects.
This was exactly what entrepreneurs and marketers needed too.
Cosmoforge was born out of that realization:
Most business owners don’t fail because they’re not smart enough or passionate enough.
They fail because they’re drowning in noise—tactics without strategy, data without clarity, goals without traction.
We built Cosmoforge to be the partner we wish we had when things felt too big to handle.
Whether you’re trying to scale revenue, fix a leaky funnel, or finally get your marketing to work like a system, we bring the same process that’s helped me build things that were supposed to be impossible:
We simplify your strategy.
We focus your tools and team.
We track what matters—and fix what doesn’t.
And we keep going, together, until the momentum takes over.
No hype. No guesswork. Just smart, steady progress.
The same approach that helped break a world record…
Is now helping founders break through their plateaus.
Get personalized recommendations for growth marketing opportunities.
Think of us as the friendly bridge between you and your first marketing hire. At Cosmoforge, we specialize in fueling growth for high lead value businesses.
