Best Decisions Open Doors — Think in Hallways, Not Rooms

Every decision you make puts you somewhere.

Some decisions put you in a wide hallway—full of doors, full of options, full of paths you haven't even discovered yet.

Some decisions put you in a small room—comfortable maybe, but with only one window and one door, and both of them locked.

Most people make decisions by asking: "Is this good for me now?"

Wise people ask something different: "What does this do to my future?"

Because the best decisions don't just solve today's problem. They open doors for tomorrow.

Here's the problem: your brain is terrible at valuing future optionality. It massively overweights what's in front of you and underweights what might be possible later.

The Present Bias Problem (Again)

Remember hyperbolic discounting? We massively overvalue immediate rewards compared to future rewards.

This doesn't just apply to pleasure and pain. It applies to options.

The immediate option—the job that pays well now, the relationship that's comfortable now, the choice that solves today's problem—looms large. The future options—what doors this opens or closes in five years—feel abstract, distant, not quite real.

So we grab what's in front of us without counting what we're trading away.

A job that pays well but teaches you nothing feels like a win today. Five years later, you realize you're exactly where you started—just older, with fewer options.

Present bias is the enemy of optionality.

The Uncertainty Blindness Problem (Again)

We're also bad at reasoning about uncertain futures.

Future options are inherently uncertain. You don't know which doors you'll want to walk through in five years. You don't know what opportunities will emerge, what skills will matter, what connections will prove valuable.

This uncertainty makes future optionality feel less real than present certainty.

"I don't know what doors this might open" feels less compelling than "I know what this gives me right now."

So we trade uncertain future value for certain present value—even when the math obviously favors the future.

The Bounded Rationality Problem (Again)

Here's the final piece: thinking about optionality is cognitively expensive.

It's relatively easy to evaluate "Is this good?" It's much harder to evaluate "What does this make possible? What other things could branch from this? What second-order effects might emerge?"

Our bounded rationality means we take shortcuts. And the easiest shortcut is to ignore future optionality entirely—to just focus on the immediate question.

This is why most people never ask the door question. Not because they don't care about the future—but because their cognitive budget runs out before they get there.

Rama's Exile as Hallway

When Rama was exiled, he lost the throne of Ayodhya. By any immediate measure: catastrophe.

But watch what the exile opened.

In the forest, Rama met sages who taught him things no palace education could. He forged alliances with Sugriva and the monkey army—allies he would never have found from a throne room. He faced challenges that revealed his character and built his legend.

When Ravana kidnapped Sita, it was these forest connections—Hanuman, the monkey army—that made her rescue possible.

The throne was a room. Prestigious, comfortable, but contained. One clear path.

The exile was a hallway. Uncertain, uncomfortable, but full of doors. Paths no one could have predicted.

What looked like losing everything became gaining more than he could have dreamed.

The question isn't whether the immediate outcome is good or bad. The question is: what does this decision make possible?

Ganesha as Vighnaharta

Before any new beginning, we pray to Ganesha.

Why? Because Ganesha is Vighnaharta—the remover of obstacles, the opener of doors.

But look at his form. An elephant head on a human body. Not built for speed. Not what you'd expect from a "door opener."

Yet he's worshipped first, before every journey.

The lesson: opening doors isn't about force. It's about wisdom.

Ganesha doesn't break down doors. He helps you find the right doors to open. He helps you see which paths lead to more paths—and which lead to dead ends.

When you pray to Ganesha before a new venture, you're not just asking for success. You're asking for guidance: Help me choose the path that opens more paths.

Where are you choosing rooms when you could be choosing hallways?

In Your Career: Two job offers. One pays more. One teaches more.

The first is a room. Higher salary, but same skills in five years. When you leave, you have money—but what else?

The second is a hallway. Less pay now, but you're building rare skills, valuable connections, stories worth telling. When you leave, you have options.

Which opens more doors in five years?

In Your Education: Safe path: clear outcome, predictable trajectory. Risky path: uncertain outcome, but what you learn might change everything.

A degree is a room. A transferable skill is a hallway.

In Your Projects: Business idea A: easy to start, teaches you nothing if it fails. Business idea B: harder, but builds capabilities you'll use forever.

If A fails, you're back where you started. If B fails, you're better than where you started.

Which failure would you rather have?

Remember the movie Black?

Amitabh Bachchan plays Debraj Sahai, a teacher who takes on an impossible student—Michelle, played by Rani Mukherjee. Blind. Deaf. Unable to communicate with the world.

Everyone says it can't be done. Her parents have given up. The world has written her off.

Debraj makes a choice. He commits to teaching her. Not because the outcome is guaranteed. Not because it's easy. But because this path opens something.

For Michelle, obviously. But also for Debraj.

Through the years of teaching her, he finds purpose he didn't know he was missing. He develops methods no one had tried. He becomes someone he couldn't have become any other way.

And when Michelle finally graduates from university—a blind, deaf woman earning a degree—it's not just her victory. It's the victory of a choice that opened doors no one could have predicted.

Debraj didn't know where that choice would lead. But he knew it was a hallway, not a room.

Here's what connects all of this:

Optionality is invisible wealth.

It doesn't show up in your bank account. It doesn't get measured in performance reviews. But it's real—and it compounds.

The person who spends their twenties building rare skills has more options at thirty than the person who optimized for immediate salary. Not because they're smarter—because their choices compounded differently.

Present bias tells you to grab what's in front of you. Uncertainty blindness tells you future options aren't real enough to matter. Bounded rationality means you don't have the cognitive budget to think about second-order effects.

But here's the math:

• Room decisions: You get X. That's it.
• Hallway decisions: You get X. And X gives you access to Y, Z, A, B, C. Each of those might lead to more.

Over time, the difference becomes exponential.

The long game isn't about sacrifice. It's about choosing hallways over rooms.

Think of a decision you're facing—career, education, relationship, project.

Run the Door Test:

1. If this works perfectly, where can I go from there? What does success open up?

2. If this fails completely, what do I walk away with? Am I stuck or still in motion?

3. Regardless of outcome, will I learn something valuable?

Compare the options not by their immediate payoffs, but by their door profiles.

Which choice leads to more choices?

Present bias makes us grab what's in front of us without counting future optionality.

Uncertainty blindness makes future options feel less real than present certainties.

Bounded rationality means we rarely have the cognitive budget to think about second-order effects.

Rama's exile looked like a closed door. It became the hallway that led to his greatest victory.

Ganesha teaches us that wisdom isn't about force—it's about finding paths that lead to more paths.

Debraj's choice to teach Michelle wasn't about guaranteed outcomes. It was about choosing a road with more road ahead.

You're not just making decisions. You're making the future.

Every choice puts you somewhere. Some places have doors. Some places have walls.

Choose the places with doors.

Use these when making major decisions:

The Hallway Test: → "Does this choice lead to more choices—or fewer?"

The Rama Question: → "Is this a throne (comfortable, contained) or an exile (uncertain, but full of doors)?"

The Ganesha Prayer: → "Which path leads to more paths?"

The Debraj Bet: → "Even if this fails, will I be better for having tried?"

The Five-Year Check: → "In five years, will I have more options—or fewer?"

| | | |---|---| | The Trap | Choosing rooms (immediate payoffs, contained outcomes) over hallways (uncertain but full of future options) | | Why It Happens | Present bias (immediate rewards loom larger than future optionality), uncertainty blindness (future options feel less real), bounded rationality (thinking about optionality is cognitively expensive) | | Rama's Lesson | The exile looked like a closed door. It became the hallway to his greatest victory | | Ganesha's Lesson | Vighnaharta doesn't break doors—he helps you find the right doors to open | | The Tool | The Door Test: What future options does this create? → If this fails, what doors stay open? → Will I learn something either way? | | The Truth | Optionality is invisible wealth. The best bets are ones where you win something even if you lose |

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Ask yourself today:

Am I choosing hallways or rooms?

And: Five years from now, will I have more options—or fewer?