Think about what happens on Earth when you throw up. You throw up

Hear the words of Chris Hadfield, voyager of the stars and teacher of the hidden burdens of flight, who declared: “Think about what happens on Earth when you throw up. You throw up and you have a bag of something horrible and then you throw it away, but if I have this bag, what am I going to do with it? This bag is going to stay with me in space for months, so we want a really good barf bag.” Though these words may stir laughter at first, they hold within them profound wisdom, for they remind us that even in the loftiest of endeavors, it is the smallest and most humble of details that ensure survival.

The origin of this saying lies in the realities of life aboard the International Space Station. Hadfield, a commander of that outpost among the stars, knew that in space, nothing is wasted, nothing is simply discarded. On Earth, we take for granted the freedom to cast away what is unpleasant. In orbit, there is no “away.” Every object, every drop of liquid, every bag, remains in the enclosed realm of the station until the mission’s end. Thus, even something as mundane and distasteful as a barf bag becomes a matter of careful design, for comfort, dignity, and health depend upon it.

The ancients, too, understood this principle in their own struggles. Consider the long voyages of sailors crossing uncharted seas. On their wooden ships, there was no place to discard waste, no refuge from stench or sickness. Discipline and care for the smallest details meant the difference between life and death. Many expeditions failed not from storms or enemies, but from neglect of sanitation, leading to pestilence. So too in space, the neglect of humble matters—air, water, or a bag for sickness—could bring misery or peril to the bravest of explorers.

The meaning of Hadfield’s words is heroic in its humility. He teaches us that greatness is not achieved by ignoring the lowly tasks, but by honoring them. To journey into space is to embrace both the majesty of the cosmos and the reality of human frailty. The astronaut gazes at galaxies beyond imagination, yet must also carry a barf bag, for the body remains mortal even among the stars. The true hero is not the one who disdains such necessities, but the one who prepares for them with wisdom and patience.

History offers another lesson in this truth. During Napoleon’s march into Russia, it was not the might of armies alone that decided the campaign, but the neglect of practical details—warm clothing, reliable food supplies, sanitation in the camps. The soldiers perished not only from battle, but from hunger, cold, and disease. Hadfield’s words echo across time: success in great ventures depends as much on the humble bag as on the noble banner, on the practical preparation as much as on the vision itself.

The lesson for us is clear: in our own lives, do not despise the small tasks, the mundane duties, the unglamorous burdens. They, too, hold the key to endurance. It is not enough to dream of greatness; one must also tend to the simple necessities that sustain it. The home must be cared for, the body must be tended, the unclean must be dealt with wisely. Those who ignore these truths may begin with splendor, but they will end in ruin. Those who embrace them will find strength to endure even the longest journey.

Practical actions flow from this wisdom. In your own labors, give attention to detail. Do not wait until small problems become great disasters. Prepare for the worst, even when you hope for the best. Embrace even the unpleasant duties with diligence, for in doing so you secure the foundation upon which your dreams rest. Remember that every “barf bag” of life—the unglamorous chores, the uncomfortable tasks—is part of the discipline that sustains greatness.

Thus, Chris Hadfield’s words, clothed in humor, conceal a timeless teaching: the greatness of a mission lies not only in its glory, but in its preparation for the humblest of needs. Let us then live with this wisdom, tending to both the stars and the soil, the sublime and the simple, so that when our own journeys carry us into the unknown, we may endure with dignity, strength, and peace.