We must free ourselves of the hope that the sea will ever rest.

In the voice of a man who knew both tempest and triumph, Aristotle Onassis once declared: “We must free ourselves of the hope that the sea will ever rest. We must learn to sail in high winds.” These are not merely the words of a wealthy magnate who built an empire upon the waves; they are the testament of a soul tempered by adversity. In this saying, Onassis speaks as both sailor and sage, reminding us that the storms of life are not to be feared nor waited out, but faced — that the wise do not wish for calm waters, but learn the mastery of motion amidst the storm.

To free ourselves of the hope that the sea will ever rest is to abandon the illusion that life will ever be smooth or predictable. The sea — vast, untamed, eternal — is the ancient symbol of existence itself. Its tides of joy and sorrow, success and loss, will never cease to rise and fall. Many souls spend their lives waiting for stillness, for that mythical moment when all will be well, when struggle will end. But Onassis, who had known exile, failure, and fortune, teaches that such stillness does not exist. To live is to sail — and the sea will always move. Peace is not found in the absence of storms, but in learning to steer through them.

Born in Smyrna and cast into ruin by war, Onassis rebuilt himself upon the restless waters. He rose from refugee to shipping titan not by expecting the sea to favor him, but by learning its moods — by sailing in high winds when others stayed in port. His life itself was a testament to this truth: that greatness is not the fruit of ease, but of adaptability. When markets crashed, when political tides shifted, when competitors faltered, he adjusted his sails. He did not curse the storm — he used it. Thus his words, though born from the world of commerce, echo with the same wisdom that guided the ancients through battle, creation, and fate.

The ancients knew this lesson well. Odysseus, in his long voyage home, faced not one calm day but a thousand trials. The sea hurled him from island to island, from temptation to terror. Yet each gale, each shipwreck, each encounter with the unknown sharpened his spirit. He became not weaker, but wiser — not because the winds ceased, but because he learned to sail amidst them. The same winds that wreck the fearful propel the prepared. This is the truth Onassis calls us to embrace: life will not soften for us; we must strengthen for it.

To learn to sail in high winds is to cultivate courage and flexibility. It is to accept that control is an illusion, but choice is not. The winds of the world — change, loss, hardship — are beyond our command. But how we adjust our sails, how we set our course, is forever within our power. The one who learns to ride the tempest gains mastery over fear itself. As the Stoics taught, we cannot calm the storm, but we can calm ourselves. Onassis’ wisdom aligns with theirs: the art of living is not in waiting for serenity, but in moving with strength and grace through turbulence.

Yet there is also humility in his words. The sea, like life, cannot be conquered — only respected. Those who expect calmness grow bitter when it does not come; those who accept the storm become free. Freedom lies not in command of the waves, but in the serenity of one who knows that struggle is natural, and motion eternal. The wise man does not seek to end the chaos; he seeks to find meaning within it.

So, O seeker of wisdom, let this teaching anchor your soul: do not pray for calm seas, but for skillful hands. Do not curse the winds, but learn their patterns, their rhythm, their purpose. For every storm bears a lesson, and every wave carries the power to shape you into something greater. When hardship comes — as it surely will — do not stand idle, longing for peace that may never arrive. Adjust your course. Find strength in the very struggle that others flee.

And when the winds howl and the waters rise, remember the words of Aristotle Onassis: “We must free ourselves of the hope that the sea will ever rest. We must learn to sail in high winds.” For it is not calm that makes the sailor, nor comfort that builds the soul, but the courage to move forward when the storm is at its fiercest. Learn this art, and no sea shall ever drown you — for you will have become not its victim, but its master.