Holding your mud

I'm not sure whether the problem with living a life of quiet desperation is the quiet or the desperation. But changing the desperation part seems unreasonable. After all, how much changing are we actually capable of? Judging from the small amount of philosophy that I've been exposed to (no laughing, please), the realistic alternatives are really just: one, sucking it up and bearing it ("holding your mud") or two, being less quiet. For the first, you satisfy yourself within the compensation that comes from martyrdom, or you tune into Dr. Phil, Laura, etc. and their predecessors, e.g., Seneca, Cicero, Zeno, Aquinas, Spinoza, Thcht Nan Than, etc., etc. and change either "the way you look at the world" or you find some comforting explanation for the madness. (I should digress for a disclaimer: just because I allude to an idea, author, thinker, etc. does not mean that I have ever actually read their works.)

The second? Do blogs that are never read count? I am not convinced that the loud and desperate are always more fun. The only folks I really want to engage with are those that are desperate for the things that I am desperate for. Otherwise, they just are unreasonable and tiring at best, scary at worst.

Today's rule: Find those folks who share my desperation and get desperate together.