You think

That my purpose is to

Cook and clean and smile and do laundry

And birth children

And send them to school

And fawn in appreciation of your authority and guidance.

And then, in my spare time,

To work on myself and my emunah, quietly and privately.

But I think

That my purpose is

To live and to love fully and loudly

And to create and be present and transcend the mundane

And to inquire and to think and to feel

And then,

From this creative contradictory mess,

My faith will emerge.

That faith will guide me

To be all that I wish.

On the margins, I will cook and clean.

But internally, I’ll smile,

Fully aware of what I’ve become.