Dancing in the Ballroom of Life

Imagine your life as a vast ballroom. Within it, the music is always changing. Sometimes soft and graceful, sometimes wild and dissonant. The tables shift, the company changes, and you find yourself moving in step with whatever arises.

Some days you dance beautifully. Other days you stumble and look like a fool.

This is the nature of the ballroom.

The problem isn’t that we falter or take a misstep. The problem is when the music changes and we’re still clinging to the last song. That’s when we lose our presence. That’s when we stop dancing and leave the floor.

Unwavering presence means you keep moving, no matter what the music brings.

This is what ultimate bodhicitta looks like. It’s not a mood or a feeling. It’s not about always being kind or always being wise. It’s the willingness to stay in the dance. To keep showing up, even when you’ve just embarrassed yourself, even when you feel exposed, even when the song is one you don’t like.

Ego wants to step off the floor. It says, “I can’t deal with this right now. I need to sit this one out.” Ultimate bodhicitta doesn’t do that. It doesn’t withdraw. It doesn’t collapse into self-concern.

Instead, it meets whatever arises with presence. Sometimes that presence looks gentle and patient. Sometimes it looks strong and uncompromising. But the constant is that it shows up.

This is why the teachings say ultimate bodhicitta is inseparable from emptiness. It has no fixed form. It is responsive, adaptive, endlessly creative. And yet it never wavers.

So when you find yourself stumbling, don’t cling to the mistake. Don’t freeze at the edge of the floor. The music has already changed. Step back in. Keep dancing.

Ultimate bodhicitta is simply this: to never forsake the dance, to never forsake anyone from your heart, and to never forsake the moment you are in.