Blur Days

The Blur Day Begins

How I start my day is a sensory ritual that grounds me before the blur begins. The rich aroma of coffee brewing fills the air, mingling with the soft thud of my dog Charlie jumping off the bed, tail wagging eagerly for his first morning walk.  My husband’s gentle kiss greets me, a quiet moment of connection before I settle into my soft chair to explore my morning to-do-list.

Then the blur day begin. The to-do-list floats out of focus, growing like an an amoeba, constantly shifting and expanding. The news is awful as I continue to furiously swipe through the pages of my I Pad, my cell phone dings  with unknown numbers, messages, and breakfast waits to be eaten, a necessary fuel to energize me. I try to take care of myself, but the list keeps growing, a shapeless blob of tasks that pull me away from being grounded. 

Despite the chaos, there is a rhythm to it all, a dance between overwhelm and acceptance. I find moments of of humor in the absurdity, and pockets of calm in the small rituals that remind me to breathe and keep going. Because even in the blur, there is a story worth telling.


Kriss Titus

Storytelling is not just what I do- it’s who I am. As a writer, I believe stories are a lifeline, threads that connect generations, emotions, and truths too deep for facts alone.

My love for storytelling began in a quite ritual: each evening, my father would read to me before bedtime. Nursery rhymes, fables, and the classic books he grew up with filled our nights. I remember the joy of listening to his voice shift with each character, the way he brought stories to life with tone and tenderness. Those moments were more than entertainment-they were inheritance.

Today, I hold his childhood books in my possession. They are worn, beloved, and sacred. They are my father’s gift to me, a legacy of imagination and connection. I have continued this tradition with my own children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, passing on the magic of storytelling one page at a time.

Storytelling for me is generational memory. It is how we remember, how we heal, and how we lead. It is the heart of my writing and the soul of my work.

Alongside reading aloud, I’ve come to see writing especially through my blog-as another way to share this magical gift. Writing allows me to explore stories that are harder to speak, stories that carry deep emotion and meaning. It’s a space where memory can unfold slowly, where others can find comfort, connection, and inspiration in the words I share.

The tradition has become more than a bedtime ritual it’s a way of staying connected. Through storytelling. I’ve found a way to carry what my father gave me: a sense of wonder, a voice that comforts, and a way to make meaning from memory. Each time I read aloud, I’m reminded that stories don’t just entertain – they help us hold on to what matters.

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Integrity and Kindness