Some people are born with a clear life path. Others spend their lives continuer à essayer—which, loosely translated from French, means “keeping at it” or, in my case, repeatedly attempting things until something eventually works.

I come from a long line of overachievers, rebels, and a few people who made highly questionable life choices. On one hand, we had Elias Wolf, the 18th-century mayor who presumably enjoyed telling people what to do. On the other, my grandfather, Louis Gustaaf Wolf, who studied medicine for five years before having a mid-degree crisis and jumping ship. Not to be outdone, my father took up a full-time job ( as part of WW2) fighting the Nazis, via the resistance, which makes my own career dilemmas seem embarrassingly mild in comparison.

Had history unfolded slightly differently—say, if my grandmother had enjoyed the rugged charm of early 1900s Canada—I might have been rounding up cattle in Saskatchewan instead of navigating the complexities of human health, philosophy, and the occasional existential crisis. But instead, I ended up in Europe, where I first trained as a teacher before deciding, you know what? Let’s try medicine after all.

A Career of Experimentation (and Mildly Controlled Chaos)

Becoming a doctor was an ironic full-circle moment, considering my grandfather bailed on the profession at the last minute. But I pushed through, ultimately carving out a career that took me from the Netherlands to South Africa, England, Scotland and eventually Australia, with again a detour to South Africa—because clearly, sitting still was never in my genetic coding. Along the way, I dabbled in chronic disease management, emergency medicine, minor surgery, and the occasional life-saving improvisation, all while maintaining an unshakable curiosity about what else is out there.

Medicine, however, was never just about medicine. It was about people. Stories. Context. And, occasionally, trying to explain to a patient that swallowing a lightbulb is not a good idea.

Trying, Failing, and Occasionally Succeeding

Somewhere between treating patients, raising a family, and navigating life’s inevitable plot twists, I realized that my true specialty wasn’t medicine—it was trying things out until something stuck. Whether it was moving across continents, diving into medical volunteering in South Africa, or contemplating whether I should take up public speaking, writing, or theology next, my approach has always been the same: Give it a go. See what happens. Adjust accordingly.

It’s the same attitude that kept my dad alive when the Gestapo came knocking, that made my grandfather pivot from medicine to railway tycoon, and that somehow led me to a life filled with unexpected adventures, fascinating people, and more existential questions than I can count.

What’s Next? Who Knows? But I’ll Keep Trying.

These days, as I slowly transition from full-time medicine to whatever comes next (storytelling? humanitarian projects? accidentally starting a new career). I’m still driven by the same philosophy: Continuer à essayer.

It’s not about having a perfect plan. It’s about moving forward, adapting, and finding meaning in the process.

After all, if my ancestors taught me anything, it’s this: Life is unpredictable, but trying (and occasionally failing spectacularly) is half the fun.

Isn’t?

Paul Alexander Wolf.