Make the most of each day.

Death eventually comes to all mankind. It comes to the aged as they walk on faltering feet. Its summons is heard by those who have scarcely reached midway in life's journey, and often it hushes the laughter of little children. Death is one fact that no one can escape or deny.

Frequently death comes as an intruder. It is an enemy that suddenly appears in the midst of life's feast, putting out its lights and gaiety. Death lays its heavy hand upon those dear to us and at times leaves us baffled and wondering. In certain situations, as in great suffering and illness, death comes as an angel of mercy. But for the most part, we think of it as the enemy of human happiness.

The darkness of death can ever be dispelled by the light of revealed truth. "I am the resurrection, and the life," spoke the Master. "He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die."

This reassurance—yes, even holy confirmation—of life beyond the grave could well provide the peace promised by the Savior when He assured His disciples: "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
~Thomas S. Monson

Heaven's been a busy place this week, it seems. A lot of people have died.

Miep Gies, who sheltered and protected Anne Frank and family during WWII, died at age 100 on Monday.

My cousin's mother-in-law collapsed from a massive heart attack on Wednesday at only 63.

Tens of thousands died this week, as a result of the 7.0 earthquake in Haiti.

Death is sobering. Death uproots your sense of well-being. Even with a knowledge and belief that there is a life after this, death is still sad and hard to cope with. It's a change that is hard for us to comprehend. Especially, when it's unexpected or when you feel the person was so young and still had so much life to live.

But I guess with any tragedy or struggle in life, there is peace to be found. Hope to be had. With time. Comfort comes. It comes in many forms. From friends, family, and in the loving arms of God.

Life is fragile. These deaths have caused me to think about where I am in life and if I died tomorrow, what legacy I would leave, or what unfinished business. After reading this talk by President Thomas S. Monson, current President and Prophet of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I just keep thinking that life is too short to fill it with anything but positive thoughts, loving feelings, and charitable actions. Be kind. Enjoy life. Love each other. Be happy. Decide what's most important in life and then focus on achieving a balance that allows you to spend your thoughts, energy, and time with those important pursuits. This is my resolve.

As President Monson said, "May we resolve from this day forward to fill our hearts with love. May we go the extra mile to include in our lives any who are lonely or downhearted or who are suffering in any way. May we '[cheer] up the sad and [make] someone feel glad.' May we live so that when that final summons is heard, we may have no serious regrets, no unfinished business, but will be able to say with the Apostle Paul, 'I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.'"

May we all continue to cultivate Hope and allow this Hope to heal.

Station Fire.

I'm in southern California visiting Dad and Nancy, watching the "Station Fire" from about two miles away. The whole mountain is on fire! We went out onto the roof last night with binoculars to get a better look, and as we came back inside, we realized that our hair and clothing reeked of campfire. This morning we awoke to air, thick with smoke.

The fire start on Wednesday. I arrived on Thursday night, and it was already well underway. I've never seen a major wildfire like this, so it's been pretty intense to follow. I've included some pictures that I found on ktla.com, which pretty much show what it looks like from the roof at night.

Ballet and Growing up in Earthquake Country.

As a child, I took ballet from Natalia Borisova (affectionately dubbed Natasha), at Ballet Russe on Clement Street every Tuesday and Thursday from 4pm-5pm. With Natasha, I had performing experience a child could only dream of. Not only did we have our regular recitals, but we performed with world-renowned Russian dancers in very upscale recitals. We also performed on television once. Our costumes were exquisite, as Natasha is the owner of over 2,000 authentic Russian costumes dating from the 14th century, the largest collection in North America. Dancing with her was truly an experience.

Natalia Borisova, my childhood ballet teacher:

So, nineteen years ago today was a Tuesday. Courtney, my childhood friend and ballet buddy, and I had just finished pirouetting across the floor at Ballet Russe, and were walking into the dressing room to change when suddenly at 5:04pm, the floor started shaking, jolting really. An earthquake. "Oh goody," I thought, as I quite liked the rush that little earthquakes provided. Generally, I'd sit and enjoy the thrill of being shaken for two or three seconds, until the earthquake stopped. But I soon realized that this was no small earthquake and it wasn't stopping. In a studio with wall to wall mirrors and the only real shelter, a large piano, finding somewhere to "duck and cover", as is ingrained in every child who grows up in earthquake country, proved to be difficult.

The jolting lasted for nearly a full minute and was stronger than anything I'd ever experienced. Surprisingly, no mirrors shattered; only plaster fell from the ceiling. Courtney's mom arrived to pick us up within a minute or two. My mom, who had left her office at 5:00pm on the dot, on the last elevator in her building that descended before the earthquake struck, and on the last bus that took its normal root out of downtown, picked me up at Courtney's house two and a half hours later.

At the time, our family was without a television, which didn't matter much since we didn't have electricity either. Our friend Marcia spent the night, since she wasn't allowed to return to her home in the Marina District due to the fire and extensive damage. It felt kind of like a slumber party until we really started seeing footage like this:

The collapsed deck on the Bay Bridge:

An apartment building in the Marina:

The collapsed Cypress Freeway in Oakland:

Another collapsed apartment building in the Marina:

So a couple of days off from school and a whole lot of damage later, I still enjoy the rush that shaking of the earth provides, but I also am far more aware of the importance of being prepared. I like being prepared. More on that later.