I am afraid of some kind of juncture where I cross the line. Or alternatively, when crunch time comes, I mess up. Or alternatively, I keep messing up and messing up, making it harder and harder to get back to where I am trying to get.

I have seen monks in distress and then seem to get enlightened. The look on (his) face was just horrible beforehand, like some horrible knowledge had come to light. Things have been going along ok now for awhile (despite yesterdays dramatics, which absolutely pale in comparison to "the horrible knowledge" that I imagine somewhere outside the lines of my psyche), but how much longer can they be sustained?

I read Thich Nhat Hanh once and he talked about something along the lines of "if we don't practice for future generations, that would be the end."