Tiny rabbits eating croissants

The essential never imposes itself. This idea stuck with me all week. We are born into this world with the freedom to choose what we focus on, a gift considered by the great religions as the blessing that allows us to find our way back home.

However, this great blessing is also a great challenge. Focusing on what is essential is more complicated than it seems. It is hard to say no to almost everything but one or two things that feel profoundly true. Also, life is cunning, and it has many tricks up its sleeve to throw us off course.

I have known my two things for a long time. They have been with me since childhood in myriad forms. I know they are essential because they are always with me, always gently inviting me. The door is always open, and I am always welcome whenever I choose to come in.

Meanwhile, the hallway is where I spend most of my time. There is a lot to see and to do in the hallway. Many non-essential things eagerly impose themselves here, which feel urgent and curiously fascinating enough so that I ignore that door slightly ajar in the corner of my eye. There are books to read, shows to watch, messages to respond to, interests to sustain, and commitments to honor—simply all those things I say yes to while I should have said no.

In the context of committing to a spirituality that feels true, C.S. Lewis writes about this hallway as a temporary space of exploration and discovery. The hallway is a waiting room, where we risk getting too comfortable not choosing. We may even forget that we are waiting. Herein lies the challenge, for that blessing bestowed on us by life honors our autonomy unconditionally. If we do not want to choose, we can perpetually remain in a state of discovery, exploring our options even if it seems like life really wants us to walk through that door.

In my experience, life does not keep the score on us like we do when others mess up. The door remains open whenever we are ready. This warm welcome, however lost we have been, is the unmerited favor of life for its creation, what we call grace. There is so much love in the universe that we are free to stray for as long as we want, only to discover that the door is still open when we return to it.

Reading this, you might already have a sense of the door that is left slightly ajar for you. Lewis writes, ``Above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and paneling.’’ Take your time in the hallway, remembering that what is essential is in no rush. It is always there with you when you are ready to choose.