Falling for Passion: The Story of How It Found Me Before I Found It

There’s a moment in every great romance where you realize: this is it. The One. For some people, that moment might happen mid-hike on a gorgeous California trail or at a backyard party where someone cracks the perfect offhand joke. For me, weirdly enough, it involved a particularly ugly fish and way too much kelp.

Let me rewind.

The Seduction of Passion (and a Little Seaweed)

I didn’t know I was falling in love with my passion the first time I snorkeled off the Santa Barbara coast. I’d love to spin a poetic tale about sparkling waters and dolphins harmonizing in the distance—but the reality felt closer to a bad rom-com’s opening act. Awkward flailing? Check. The feeling of being uncomfortably overdressed in a wetsuit? Double check.

And yet, something about slipping beneath the surface that day sparked something real. There I was, face-to-face with a garibaldi—the electric orange jewel of California’s waters—and waist-deep in a kind of serene beauty I didn’t know existed outside of Instagram filters. It was like uncovering a secret world no one was talking about. Sure, I got tangled in a kelp forest like the protagonist in an overly dramatic Lifetime movie, but that chaos was strangely… thrilling. Somehow, I left wanting more.

Before Passion Comes Curiosity

Falling for your passion, much like falling for a person, rarely starts with fireworks. It’s more of a nudge—one that pokes at your curiosity until you decide to lean in. For me, that nudge kept popping up in unexpected ways.

I started noticing little things: how certain pockets of nature seemed to breathe life into me. How I felt the most grounded and alive by the ocean—like it held answers to questions I didn’t realize I was asking. I realized the ocean wasn’t just a backdrop, but a character in my story.

Curiosity quickly turned into quiet obsession. I wanted to know everything—the scales of ecosystems, the rhythm of tides, the ways our lives intertwine (often messily) with the planet we call home. My environmental studies degree served up more questions than answers, which, looking back, is pretty much the ideal outcome. Passion isn’t about arriving at answers; it’s what drives you to keep asking.

Building a Relationship with What Fuels You

Here’s the truth about passion no one tells you: it grows in layers, like a relationship hitting new milestones. First, there's "the spark"—those initial gut feelings that whisper, This might be something. Then comes the work.

It wasn’t enough to just romanticize coastal sunsets and sea breezes. Diving deeper into environmental advocacy felt like committing to a long-term relationship where compromise, learning, and plenty of mistakes were guaranteed. One summer, I even signed up to volunteer at beach clean-ups. (Nothing crushes your ego faster than trying to look cool while wrestling a rogue grocery bag from a tide pool.) But every awkward, sweaty moment tethered me more deeply to the broader picture—how interconnected our ecosystems are, and how deeply personal that connection feels.

Passion is like that, isn’t it? There’s a give-and-take. I gave time and energy, and my growing understanding of environmental connections gave something invaluable back: purpose.

When Passion Finds Its Way into Everything

Here’s something they don’t print in career guides or rom-coms: when you’re deeply in love—with a cause, a person, or a pursuit—it spills into every part of your life. I didn’t just fall in love with an idea; I fell in love with the way it shaped me.

When I transitioned from environmental consulting to writing, my passion tagged along, completely uninvited, like the friend who refuses to leave the party (except in this case, you’re glad they stayed). Stories of relationships and connections—whether connecting to someone you love or the planet itself—flowed into my creative work like the tide sneaking onto the sand. I realized the two weren’t separate at all.

Take relationships, for example. Ever notice how they mirror ecosystems? Healthy ones need balance, clarity, and care to thrive. Neglect one piece, and everything feels off-kilter, like an invasive species suddenly overrunning a habitat. Thinking about human connections in this context helped me not only navigate my own dating life but also showed me that nurturing relationships is ultimately about taking responsibility—not just for yourself, but for the spaces you share with others.

How to Find YOUR Passion (Spoiler: It Might Find You)

Maybe you’re reading this and thinking, "Cool story about kelp, Chris, but what about me?" Don’t worry—I’ve got you covered. Whether you have a hunch about your passion or feel like you’re still snorkel-flailing for clarity, here are a few tips on how to spark that connection:

  1. Follow Your Curiosity.
    Passion doesn’t always show up with neon signs or a dramatic soundtrack. Pay attention to the little things that make your brain and heart do a double-take. A hobby? A cause? A fleeting obsession? These can all be breadcrumbs.

  2. Get Comfortable Being Bad at Things.
    Spoiler alert: you’re not going to crush it right away. Embracing imperfection—like, say, being terrible at pulling trash bags out of tide pools—makes the journey that much more rewarding. Growth comes from the messy, awkward stages.

  3. Look for the Connection Factor.
    The best passions aren’t just about you—they feed into your relationships, your community, your world. When something feels bigger than you, it becomes easier to stick with it when the initial excitement wanes.

  4. Start Small but Think Big.
    Even big love stories start with tiny moments. You don’t need to move mountains in a day. Take small, consistent steps toward bringing your passion into focus—and let those steps compound.

Falling in Love with Life All Over Again

Here’s the thing: just like romantic relationships, your passion won’t stay stagnant. It will grow, evolve, and surprise you in the best way. What started out as a love for kelp-covered chaos eventually became the backbone of how I approach relationships, writing, and a life aligned with what truly matters to me.

Whatever your spark is—whether it’s under the sea or so far outside your comfort zone you can barely see it—it’s worth exploring. Passion isn’t a destination; it’s the fuel that makes life feel lived. And once you’ve found it, there’s no going back.

Now, excuse me while I return to plotting my next snorkel trip—and maybe, just maybe, my next novel.