The art of figuring it out

There are moments in life where everything goes wrong in the blink of an eye. The French have a word for dealing with such situations: démerder. Translated, it literally means to "un-shit oneself" or "pull yourself out of a mess." It conveys a sort of I'll-figure-it-out-myself grit mustered up when you need to sort things out on your own with your dick and your knife (a French idiom for another post).

One of these situations occurred yesterday when my wedding ring fell down a sidewalk grate into an electrical access chamber. The ring was in my pocket after getting an MRI for a torn hamstring, and leaped out as I reached for my keys. I gasped as it bounced off the sidewalks and slipped through the grate–the kind of gut-wrenching moment where everything slows down as you watch the inevitable happen. My heart dropped as the ring did.

I got on my knees and looked through the cracks. There it was, about four meters below my feet, sitting on a disgusting concrete floor littered with cigarette butts, dirt and other filth. Shit.

The first thing that came to mind was calling the 20th arrondissement City Hall. They suggested calling the Parisian sewer service, who insisted they couldn't open the trap door and gave me the utility company's emergency service number. The guy on the phone was helpful, and after cracking some jokes about getting murdered by my wife, opened a ticket for a technician. "Don't go far. He'll be around sometime today." It was noon. Great.

It became clear then I'd have to démerde myself.

I rushed home, grabbed a spindle of electrical wire, and taped some heavy bolts to the end, forming a weight. It needed to be narrow enough to fit through the 1 cm grate cracks. I picked up an assortment of tape, hooks, and my trusty Swiss Army knife. "I have a few more errands to run, babe." I was in and out in 10 minutes.

Back on the scene, the weight went down the cracks, lowered by the electrical wire. It dropped dead center on the ring. Magnets wouldn't work, and a hook would be too difficult to line up at this distance. I needed something adhesive.

A hardware store attendant down the street recommended a thick, fast-curing glue. I smothered the weight on all sides with the sticky substance and down the hatch it went. I heard the ring clink on the concrete as it connected with the glue. I knew I was close. It took just a few minutes for the glue to dry, and then the ring came up. I snatched it through the cracks by the tips of my fingers. It was out! I jumped up, shouting in triumph, but my celebration went unnoticed—no one was around to witness this miraculous victory.

This is far from being the first situation where I had to improvise and figure things out. Moving to France at 22 (17 years ago to this day), away from my parents and the comforts of North American life, pushed me to learn self-reliance quickly. The first five years were rough, financially and socially. Learning to navigate complex bureaucracy, strict immigration policies (under Sarkozy mind you), a different education system, and unfamiliar social and cultural norms was hard but incredibly formative.

My greatest démerde happened in 2011. A friend was generous enough to lend me his car to move furniture, and I inadvertently fueled it with gasoline instead of diesel (at the same time, learning that diesel cars were ordinary in Europe, unlike in Canada). With little tools, mechanical experience, or help (but one passerby who gave me important pointers), I managed to empty the tank and flush the engine in a roadside parking lot in six hours. We still laugh about it to this day.

Traveling through Vietnam in 2018, situations like these happened every few days. There was the motorbike incident where we broke down in the middle of nowhere and had to find a way to communicate with a mechanic in a nearby town to follow us back and help with repairs. Or the time my luggage ended up in a bus station 200 km off of my itinerary and was found being guarded by a local gang (who were not eager to give it up without compensation).

My wife pokes fun at me for getting into these situations, but also praises me for how well I démerde myself. But I believe it's situations like these that make life interesting and form our character. The game of life would be boring without challenges or obstacles. I've found that no matter the situation, it helps to remain calm and carefully calculate the right course of action. Hasty decisions usually make things worse.

Many qualities and skills I've developed in these situations are also valuable for business. Many entrepreneurs will tell you they spend much of their time putting out fires–I agree. All the strategic and contingency planning in the world won't prepare you for black swan events. Calmness and the ability to act deliberately will.

In the end, it's not just about solving problems, it's about how life's challenges shape us. Whether it's a lost wedding ring, navigating the complexities of life in a foreign country or figuring out difficult situations while traveling, each challenge makes you more resourceful and prepared for the unexpected. Life, like business, is full of obstacles, and it's our ability to démerder ourselves that defines us.