The Things We Take With Us

When we die we don’t get to take anything with us,
which is why I can’t imagine Hashem asking someone what hat or kippah they wore when they were alive,
but maybe ask them how many people saw them as His servant.
So I don’t really get why we,
define our relationship with God,
by something as inane as an article of clothing.
As if me wearing a certain skirt means that I have more emunah,
As if me covering my hair a certain way means that I have more yirat shamayim,
As if me covering my knees the way I usually do means that I have more ahavat yisrael.
Am I the only one who finds it absurd?
I don’t hide my body because I’m ashamed of it,
Or to “make it easier” for men,
I hide it because my physicality isn’t something I want to be a part of my identity. At all.
E x t e r n a l i t i e s
are emptiness.
I will not define my relationship with God by the things I leave behind before I get closer to him.
I will not define myself by these transient decisions,
They are nothing more
than a husk
another layer
that keeps me further from God-
Just a chore in this life to get to the next one.
As a childless young woman, it feels like my outfits are supposed to be my biography as a Jewish person.
Seams lying flat, singing stories of my virtues,
Undershirts and underskirts, whispering of the challenges I’ve faced.
In my journey to being religious,
I decided to dress tznius,
I didn’t realize how much importance,
would be placed on these choices,
It’s just kind of absurd, how easy it is to put a uniform on and be empty on the inside- and nobody cares to notice.
God exists in the parts of me that I will never show anyone.
The parts that no one can see.
The parts that I am scared of.
The parts that make me feel human.
The parts I supposedly share too much of-
Because it’s just so much easier to live externally.
But I don’t believe in the easy way out.