From early experiences witnessing water scarcity to years spent quietly installing water filters across the world, Cyrus Maroofian’s path has been shaped by curiosity, commitment, and a willingness to step into the unknown. What began as informal, self-driven work eventually grew into Water Access To All (W.A.T.A.), an organization focused on creating lasting access to clean drinking water through local partnerships and community-led solutions.
Cyrus’ journey is not defined by grand gestures, but by showing up consistently, listening closely, and choosing to act even when the path forward isn’t clear.
This collaboration between Seek Discomfort and W.A.T.A. brings together two worlds rooted in the same belief: that growth, connection, and impact live just beyond what feels comfortable.
Below is an honest conversation between Cyrus and Seek Discomfort about what it means to lean into uncertainty in service of something bigger than yourself. It explores how discomfort can become a guide, how community transforms intention into action, and how meaningful change is built through presence, trust, and shared responsibility.
Rather than offering answers from a distance, this conversation invites you into the questions, decisions, and moments that shaped the work as it exists today.
1. Seek Discomfort has always been about leaning into the uncomfortable in pursuit of growth. How did that message influence your decision to start W.A.T.A.?
Honestly, just starting W.A.T.A. was the most uncomfortable thing I could have done, and I think that’s exactly why I did it. I had been setting up water filters for almost ten years at that point, but always on my own, informally, without structure. Making the decision to turn it into something real felt intimidating in a completely different way.
The work itself was already uncomfortable. Getting to villages meant six-hour drives through the mountains, sleeping on the floor of a school, being barefoot most of the time, not showering for days, and dealing with heat and humidity. On one trip, it was so hot that we couldn’t even move much. We just sat outside, trying to cool down, read, and breathe. None of it was comfortable in the traditional sense.
But what stood out to me was that despite all of that discomfort, I felt an overwhelming amount of love, appreciation, and happiness from the experience and from the people we were working with. And when that same community asked for more water filters, something clicked. I realized that if something made me this uncomfortable but also felt this meaningful, then it was exactly what I needed to lean into.
I had no idea how to start a nonprofit. I didn’t know what success even looked like. I didn’t know that it would mean constantly asking for money or putting myself out there in ways that felt vulnerable. But at its core, the idea of seeking discomfort is what pushed me to stop overthinking and actually commit to the work.
2. Was there a specific Yes Theory or Seek Discomfort moment that pushed you from inspiration into action?
There wasn’t one single moment, but more a buildup over time. Watching Yes Theory connect with complete strangers in places they had no prior connection to felt very familiar to what I was already experiencing on my own trips. Their serendipitous moments mirrored a lot of what I was seeing happen naturally in my own travels.
There was one episode where they convinced someone at an airport to completely change their flight and go on an adventure with them. That moment really stuck with me. The idea that you could meet someone who was on a completely different trajectory and invite them into something meaningful felt powerful. I actually experienced my own version of that in Vietnam. We were in Dien Bien when a random guy came up and asked what we were doing with all these buckets. I told him we were taking a water filter to a nearby orphanage and school and asked if he wanted to come with us. He joined us, helped with the distribution, and was so motivated by the experience that he asked if he could take our leftover filters with him when he later traveled through Laos on a motorbike. That moment made everything feel very real.
Seek Discomfort had already influenced how I moved through the world, but this showed me how directly it could translate into the water work itself. I’d see things like throwing a party for a stranger, taking someone skydiving, or inviting someone into a completely unfamiliar experience, and I kept asking myself how I could apply that same energy to humanitarian work?
A lot of my ideas since then have been rooted in that mindset, taking strangers surfing, setting up filters together, navigating fear, language barriers, and uncertainty side by side. It made me realize that you could create a meaningful impact by inviting people into discomfort while also helping others at the same time.
3. W.A.T.A. focuses on community-led, local partnerships rather than parachute aid. Why was that model important to you?
Being on the ground over the years showed me how powerful simple human connection really is. Sitting with someone, sharing a meal, shaking a hand, or just being present can have a deeper impact than anything you drop off and walk away from.
At the same time, watching Seek Discomfort really shaped how I think about community. I’ve seen how they bring people together to support strangers, show up for events, and rally around shared experiences. What stood out to me was that while there are recognizable faces, the real power comes from the community itself. It’s not about one person, it’s about collective energy.
In the humanitarian space, a lot of models still focus on parachute aid or on centering everything around one individual or organization. I never felt aligned with that. I wanted W.A.T.A. to feel like something people are part of, not something that drops in and disappears. When local leaders are trained, trusted, and empowered, the work continues long after we leave. I believe a lot of this is gained by simply bringing yourself into the work. Bringing in your community, your interests and passions will make all the difference.
Seeing how Seek Discomfort mobilizes community made me ask what this could look like if applied to water access. If people didn’t just donate, but showed up, learned, helped install filters, and felt connected to the communities they were supporting. That belief is why community-led work is so important to me. It’s not about saying we helped, it’s about building something together that actually lasts so we can continue helping.
4. What does “seeking discomfort” look like in the context of building an NGO and working on water access projects?
It shows up everywhere, both behind the scenes and in the field.
On the organizational side, some of the most uncomfortable things I’ve ever done include calling friends to ask for donations, speaking publicly, promoting events, asking people to share work I’ve created, and constantly putting myself out there without knowing the outcome.
One of the biggest moments of discomfort for me was around my job. I had been working at the same company for about ten years, and my position was going to be eliminated. They offered me another role, but it would have added significantly more responsibility and taken away from my ability to actually work on the nonprofit and get it off the ground. At that point, I already knew W.A.T.A. needed more energy than I was even giving it.
I made the conscious decision to turn down that offer, knowing it would lead to me being laid off and having no salary. That meant stepping fully into financial uncertainty. Waking up every day without a steady income and asking myself how I was going to make it work was extremely uncomfortable, but I also knew staying comfortable would mean never fully committing to the work.
Then there’s the fieldwork. Traveling to countries where I don’t speak the language, navigating unfamiliar laws, police checks, military presence, visa issues, and different cultures. Sleeping on floors, using outdoor bathrooms, eating very local food, sitting for six hours on buses through the mountains, giving presentations to 150 families in places I’ve never been before. There have been moments where visas were expired, situations felt sketchy, cars broke down, or the logistics alone were overwhelming.
As the work grew, I started to realize that for me to get better at this, I had to continue seeking the moments that made me the most uncomfortable. Those moments were shaping me. Every time I leaned into discomfort instead of avoiding it, it led to deeper connection, better understanding, and more meaningful impact. In that sense, seeking discomfort isn’t separate from the work, it’s built into everything we do.
5. If you could speak directly to the Seek Discomfort community, what would you want them to understand about the impact they’re helping create?
If I could speak directly to the Seek Discomfort community, I’d want you to know that your presence matters more than you probably realize, especially at this stage. W.A.T.A. is still small. It’s something I work on every single day, and right now, having a community that believes in this work isn’t optional, it’s essential for it to keep moving forward.
Every time you show up, share something, come to an event, volunteer, or even just talk about the work, you’re helping carry it. That support creates momentum when things feel heavy or uncertain. It reminds me that this isn’t happening in isolation.
What’s powerful about the Seek Discomfort community is the way you show up together. You don’t just watch experiences happen, you become part of them. When that same energy is brought into humanitarian work, it starts to break down the idea of “us” and “them.” Instead of helping from a distance, we’re working alongside one another.
That mindset is exactly what I want to build into this work. If we come together in the same way you already do, leaning into discomfort, showing up for strangers, trusting the process, then problems like the clean water crisis start to feel solvable. Not because one person is leading it, but because a community is carrying it forward.
The real impact you’re creating isn’t just clean water. It’s proving that collective action, inclusivity, and shared responsibility can move something that feels overwhelming into something we can actually solve together.
