the rapidly digitized world

We are now in the process of putting out there via blogging our most secret or sacred thought of the day (or not) for anyone and no one to see. I am fairly certain almost no one will read this, and I like it this way. I am writing this for myself, but I am still putting it out these. Many aspects are attractive, it is one place, it is neat, organized (unlike my chaotic memory, or often house, for that matter- but I really try on the last one).
The mania for sharing has taken over many people and in some countries it means revolutions, but in some countries it means broadcasting what & where you ate. How banal. I have thought of Mark Zuckenberg as someone who sits on a throne and gently waves his arms from people's minds toward his pocket, mantra-ing come to me... meaning give me your thoughts, give me your impulse to be friends, give me your secrets, and I will turn them into money. For me and my lovely investors. But all is good. For those who want to "like" their friends' choice of whatever they are consuming, even spiritually.
I just read an article int he Times about a you tube comedian girl who has millions of teenage viewers. I wonder... what is happening to the world?
It was just Easter, I felt it in the blossoms, the hymn I remembered, the resurrection of nature called spring. I learnt about the Holy Fire, and how someone tried to bribe "it".
I moved my arms in the style of Cunningham today, feeling his touch of cool greatness, the nature more focused than a ballerina. He gave me an interesting correction- tucking during battment is basically teaching, but he gave it in a much nicer way... he was kind of intense too.
Then back to Dumbo, then a big thank you to a friend watching Ava, then home. Home. Home.
A flashback from earlier today creeps through.. a song came to me under the lilac tree, the same one that Misha's grandmother loved.
"If your heart is tightening, then give something of yourself, and it will be released from its own confines again". It is a really physical thing. I have let my anger out of its borders. I have been more than difficult. I owe a profound apology to my mother-in-law. I tried to give it. Maybe it worked.
But I am home now.
Thank you, Sveta Bogoroditsa, for preserving us all.