I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we

In the words of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., “I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it — but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.” This saying, like a beacon across the sea of time, speaks to the eternal truth of progress, purpose, and perseverance. It is a meditation on life’s voyage — not measured by where we are at any given moment, but by the direction in which our soul journeys. Holmes reminds us that it is not our stillness that defines us, but our motion; not our comfort, but our courage; not our standing, but our striving.

The origin of this quote rests in the heart of the nineteenth century, an age of exploration and awakening. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., a physician, poet, and philosopher, lived in a time when science and faith, progress and morality, wrestled for balance. His words reflect the spirit of a man who saw life as a voyage — filled with storms, calm seas, and unseen horizons. He was no stranger to the shifting winds of fortune and belief, and thus he spoke as both navigator and sage. For him, the “port of heaven” was not merely a distant paradise, but the ultimate aim of a life well-lived — a destination reached only by those who dare to move, even when the waves rise high and the stars are hidden.

To “sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it” is to accept the dual nature of life. There are seasons of ease, when all forces seem to aid our journey, when opportunity carries us forward effortlessly. But there are also seasons of resistance, when every step feels uphill, when fate itself seems to turn against us. Holmes teaches that both are necessary — that strength is forged not in calm waters, but in struggle. The sailor who only moves with the wind will never learn mastery; the soul that only seeks ease will never know greatness. It is in the resistance — in those moments when we must set our sails against the gale — that we prove the depth of our spirit.

Consider the story of Christopher Columbus, who sailed not knowing if a new world even existed. His journey was filled with mutiny, fear, and doubt, yet he pressed forward — not because the wind was favorable, but because his direction was clear. Or think of Helen Keller, who, born into darkness and silence, could easily have “lain at anchor.” Yet with the guidance of Anne Sullivan, she set her life’s sails to the wind and against it, moving toward the light of knowledge and communication. Their stories embody Holmes’s truth — that destiny belongs not to those who wait for fair weather, but to those who dare to sail, whatever the wind may bring.

When Holmes warns us not to “drift, nor lie at anchor,” he speaks against two great enemies of the human spirit: complacency and fear. To drift is to surrender purpose — to move, but without meaning, carried by the current of circumstance. To lie at anchor is to refuse movement altogether, clinging to the illusion of safety while the tides of life pass by. Both are forms of death before dying. The wise soul understands that even a small step forward, even a painful inch against the current, is better than the comfort of stillness. For motion, no matter how slow, is the heartbeat of hope.

The lesson in Holmes’s words is both practical and spiritual: never measure yourself by where you are, but by where you are going. The journey toward virtue, truth, or fulfillment is long and often perilous, but every act of will, every adjustment of the sails, draws you nearer to your divine port. There will be times when life’s wind will aid you — cherish those moments — and times when it will oppose you — endure them with faith. What matters most is that you do not drift, that you live with intention, guided by conscience and purpose.

So, my children of the present age, hear this wisdom and take it as your compass. Do not wait for perfect conditions to begin your voyage. Do not fear the storms that rise — they are the teachers of your strength. If the wind favors you, be grateful; if it resists you, be resolute. Always move, always seek, always sail. For in the end, it is not the calm seas that bring a soul to heaven’s harbor, but the unwavering courage to keep the sails unfurled and the heart set upon its course.

And when the last journey comes — when your ship draws near that final horizon — may it be said of you, not that you waited for fair weather, but that you sailed bravely, through calm and tempest alike, ever toward the light. For the measure of life is not in its ease, but in its direction, and the glory of the soul lies not in where it stands, but in that it dared to move.