I didn't want to be equal to him. I didn't have to be equal to

Hear the voice of Alice Coltrane, mystic, musician, seeker of spirit, who once said: “I didn't want to be equal to him. I didn't have to be equal to him and do what he did. That, I never considered. I don't think like that. And whatever in the women's liberation—that's what they want. I didn't want to be equal to him. I wanted to be a wife.” These words, soft yet powerful, are not a rejection of freedom, but an affirmation of choice. They speak of a woman who walked beside a man of great renown—John Coltrane, whose name thundered through the heavens of jazz—and yet she sought not to mirror his path, but to remain true to her own.

The origin of this truth lies in her life with John Coltrane, the great saxophonist. The world praised him as genius, visionary, master of sound, yet Alice herself was no less a force—composer, harpist, pianist, spiritual leader. Still, when asked of equality, she did not measure herself against his gifts or his fame. Her soul did not yearn to rival him on the same stage, nor to claim his crown. Instead, she chose a different role, one of love, partnership, and devotion. She declared herself not diminished by this choice, but strengthened by it. To her, equality did not mean sameness—it meant freedom to define her own place.

Consider, O listener, the story of Penelope in Homer’s Odyssey. While Odysseus battled across seas and through storms, Penelope’s strength was not in wielding a sword but in weaving and in waiting, in guarding the home with cunning and loyalty. To some, this might seem lesser. Yet it was she who preserved Ithaca, she who protected the lineage, she whose faith allowed Odysseus to return to a kingdom still whole. Like Penelope, Alice Coltrane reminds us that power and dignity are not found only in conquering the world, but also in building, preserving, and nurturing it.

Yet her words also stand as a challenge to the age in which she spoke. The rise of women’s liberation demanded equality in the workplace, in politics, in art. Many women long silenced rightly sought to stand shoulder to shoulder with men. But Alice’s voice reveals another dimension: liberation means not only the right to do what men do, but also the right to choose differently. Her path was not one of rivalry, but of harmony; not to eclipse her husband, but to accompany him, and in that accompaniment, to create something transcendent together.

Her own artistry did not vanish into his shadow. After John’s passing, Alice stepped forth with a spiritual sound unlike any other—music that merged jazz with Eastern mysticism, harp strings with the infinite. She became a teacher, a guide, a spiritual mother to many. She proves that to choose wifehood is not to surrender one’s soul, but to weave it into a larger tapestry of love and creation.

The lesson here is this: true equality is not about imitation, but about authenticity. To be free is not to follow another’s path, but to choose your own without shame or compulsion. For some, this means marching, leading, and conquering. For others, it means nurturing, supporting, and building from within. Both are sacred, both are necessary. The mistake of society is to rank them, to call one higher and the other lower, when in truth they are complementary halves of the whole.

And what actions must we take? Honor the choices of women in all their diversity. Do not measure them only by how much they resemble the lives of men. Celebrate those who lead on stages, in politics, in the marketplace, but also honor those who choose the hearth, the family, the quieter paths of love and faith. Ask not whether they are “equal” by comparison, but whether they are free to live as they truly are.

Thus, remember Alice Coltrane’s words: “I wanted to be a wife.” She did not say this from weakness, but from strength. She chose her path, and in that choice, she found harmony, purpose, and the freedom of authenticity. Let future generations learn this wisdom: equality is not sameness, liberation is not rivalry, and the highest calling of every soul is to live in truth to itself.