tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31488612012-01-29T11:02:34.429-05:00Growth demands a temporary surrender of security. -Gail SheehyLarissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.comBlogger271100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-50683100931612088232012-01-15T12:48:00.006-05:002012-01-15T13:11:18.719-05:00

A few hours before the Broncos’ game against the Pats, my mother posted about Tim Tebow being a “true hero” on Facebook. With typical cynicism, I sniped in a comment: “It’s only because he’s religious!” Tebow’s Christian devotion has nearly eclipsed his success on the field. It’s like that scene at the end of The Devil’s Advocate: a lawyer with the crisis of conscience? A 24-year-old

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-76934964335252157322012-01-03T16:42:00.019-05:002012-01-15T13:07:42.436-05:00

I once read an article about a woman who collected her dreams through magazine clippings: the home she wanted to own; what she’d wear to a future dream job, a wedding cake. I kept my dreams in my head. My favorite was having a small chicken farm, living on the side of a mountain out West. I pictured myself married, writing contentedly in the kitchen, drinking tea. When I looked out the window

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-73081381054856488032011-12-16T16:20:00.005-05:002011-12-17T13:29:30.829-05:00

Back in 2006, I lived in part of a multi-family home in New Haven, a yawning, hundred-year-old house with hardwood floors and an exterior painted Pepto-Bismol pink. I preferred calling it rose-colored, but everyone else dubbed it “distinctive.” My penchant for those rose-colored glasses was now a need; my longtime boyfriend and I had split a few months before and I had few friends living close-by

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-61838626610396594902011-09-30T20:44:00.010-04:002011-11-25T19:55:06.217-05:00

I once always embraced—okay, bragged about—getting older. “I’m aging like a fine wine,” I said on my 28th birthday, celebrating with friends in Seattle. Looking back, I realize those words showed a touch of hubris I didn’t notice until now. Maybe it’s something about turning 30. At 21, 30 felt like a distant valley populated by couples and their requisite 2.5 kids. I was in my first serious

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-45189191113522131272011-09-03T20:19:00.012-04:002011-10-19T23:45:08.596-04:00

It’s no surprise that the word “hearth,” meaning, quite literally, a burning place, is often paired with the word “home.” Just as “home is where the heart is,” the mention of home and hearth is evocative of all things cozy and familiar. For me, home and hearth is reminiscent of the wood cabin my dad and grandfather built in Connecticut’s Northwest hills during the 1970s. At the center of the main

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-29325205108832726402011-08-15T22:05:00.016-04:002011-10-17T00:01:00.336-04:00

In physics, escape velocity is the speed needed to “break free” from a gravitational field without further propulsion. In life, escape velocity can be that final oomph you need to break out of a rut. Ruts can be as simple as getting up a half hour earlier to exercise, or making a promise to get to bed by a certain hour. Call it the Oomph Factor. A friend recently raised the concept of escape

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-1179081962450155472011-08-06T21:43:00.031-04:002011-10-23T22:31:33.840-04:00

What defines a writer? To be published? I believe publishing is only one indicator of success. A successful writer, in fact, may be someone who wrote a cogent email to their boss, or a journal entry that gave them emotional release. Good writing is about the message. Writers are people who create effective ones. Writing, however, is also only one way of interpreting and understanding the world.

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-41768120034056755932011-07-11T00:01:00.037-04:002011-08-07T01:44:58.977-04:00

The last time I took a yoga class was my freshman year of college; (does that even really count)? Squinting under the gymnasium lights, I felt like I was in a dentist's chair. I became so anxious I had trouble finishing the "meditative session," gulping air as quietly as possible while everyone around me seemed half-asleep. The experience became a joke with my family and friends: only I would

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-31994094791859961482011-06-09T21:57:00.024-04:002011-10-23T22:30:17.430-04:00

Remember the classic children’s book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very-Bad Day? The moment our irascible little narrator wakes up with gum in his hair, his negative thoughts weave an even stickier mess. His tale of woe—even witnessing kissing on TV!—ends with him going to sleep in (the horror!) railroad-print pajamas. I love this book because it’s relatable, no matter how

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-75882520490316807872011-04-07T21:39:00.043-04:002011-10-16T23:59:09.423-04:00

We all struggle with perspective at times. This short video, passed on tonight by a good friend, reminded me how important it is to remember the power of words. Watching it, I recalled one of my favorite songs, Collective Soul's The World I Know. When the video first came out, it moved me to tears. I was 13. Back then, I was barely a teenager, and couldn't wait to get older. I saw adulthood,

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-49015542151879415762011-03-22T23:00:00.037-04:002012-01-15T13:08:14.911-05:00

One day I want to raise chickens of my own. Three years ago, such a statement may have raised an eyebrow, but as technology has boomed (along with gas and grocery prices) more people are putting away their iPhones and paying more attention to the world around them. I grew up with chickens, ducks and geese. In the last few years, my parents have added guinea fowl to the mix. While I’ve

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-45285082940020246952011-02-18T19:17:00.017-05:002011-08-07T01:45:26.761-04:00

I learned about the Artist’s Way the same way many people do: through a friend. After commenting on her upbeat attitude, my friend told me she’d started sewing again — a skill and creative outlet she hadn’t used in years. Her inspiration had come from a book — the Artist’s Way — that had been recommended by her mother. And I was curious, so I borrowed her copy. I also was given the green-light

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-73242464414481860052010-12-16T13:19:00.008-05:002011-10-23T22:35:16.366-04:00

In my conversations for a 40+ singles piece for a Fairfield County, CT women's magazine, I learned being single feels largely the same, whether you’re 49 or 29. All the women agreed their lives have become more meaningful single, giving them the opportunity to grow in ways they hadn’t needed to before. They learned their worth existed within themselves, not through a partner, career or dream home

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-62431254266219968082010-11-27T12:55:00.044-05:002012-01-15T13:08:42.837-05:00

I recently came across a therapeutic riding nonprofit in need itself. Since its inception nearly 12 years ago, Ride for Joy still needs a home of its own. The program is currently operating out of Pierce Park Stables in northwest Boise. Its dedicated staff, all originally volunteers, are striving to find a permanent facility. The wish list includes an indoor arena, 10-15 acres and ample

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-24266824619520538502010-11-15T13:53:00.057-05:002012-01-15T13:09:25.324-05:00

I'm writing a piece on hobby farms, including animal-assisted treatment for special needs children and adults. Yesterday's visit to Wunsapana Farm in Altamont, NY proved their benefits firsthand. "Is the name 'Wunsapana' a play on Once Upon a Time?" I asked owner Teri Conroy. "It is," she laughed. Meeting Teri's donkeys, chickens, goats and llamas felt like a page from a fairy tale. I visited

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-86596194611909498032010-11-13T13:28:00.012-05:002011-10-09T02:49:24.539-04:00

I downgraded my cell phone this morning, replacing my refurbished Palm Treo with my 2008 Samsung flip phone. After spending an average of $115 a month for a well-used 900 minute/250 text plan, I decided it was time to cut the data package and slice $60 off my monthly bill. "I can't even figure out how to turn the damn Treo off!" I moaned to a friend, citing other complaints, including: (1) My

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-90279226797454034382010-11-02T23:03:00.014-04:002011-07-14T22:25:01.278-04:00

Last Saturday I watched Jon Stewart at the D.C. Rally to Restore Sanity/Fear. Since his days starring in quasi-B movies, The Daily Show has become a contemporary fixture. Most people under 40 watch it, and a lot of those people actually rely on Stewart as a news source. It's not as ludicrous as it seems. He's the true no-spin zone, more honest than most of the mainstream media, and a lot

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-48767529050769803322010-10-15T16:42:00.020-04:002011-10-23T22:34:20.070-04:00

This afternoon, a friend emailed me a link to a New York Times blog, teasing, “Did you break some New Yorker’s heart?” The piece is by a city transplant returning West after a soured love affair with a red-haired girl. Its author, Christopher Solomon, is an acclaimed travel writer whose work has appeared in Outside magazine, Men’s Health and Ski. On his website, Solomon claims he likes to

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-17706467211220383042010-10-04T10:05:00.041-04:002011-10-23T22:31:06.870-04:00

Want (Written 2/09) When I first heard the words, "I have everything I've ever wanted," I thought it was with the addition of something. I also thought, "But there is always something to want." Now I see what it really meant. We have everything we want the moment we appreciate what we have. We often read about celebrities with seemingly charmed lives struggling with substance abuse or other

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-18356002632269652222010-10-04T10:01:00.011-04:002011-08-16T13:44:02.738-04:00

Progress is sometimes just staying put. Perhaps it's generational, but we seem to live in a time where everyone under 35 "should" have a BlackBerry, at least one designer item and a fabulous corporate job title. Or, maybe that's just Connecticut. In all seriousness, I've often been the type to rush ahead so quickly I've neglected the moment. It's ironic that while I talk about enacting change,

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-35002116402784979972010-09-11T20:56:00.001-04:002010-10-15T11:02:16.098-04:00

Early on the morning of September 11, 2001, I had my usual breakfast of granola and fresh fruit with a group of friends in the college cafeteria. After watching the first plane plunge into the World Trade Center on the television overhead, we quickly agreed it was a freak accident. After the second plane hit, we still went to class. My professor jumped from topic to topic like a nervous squirrel

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-60849656056464643412010-02-08T00:32:00.026-05:002010-11-24T11:35:22.845-05:00

While I usually watch the Superbowl for the commercials and good times with friends, this year's highlight was definitely the half-time show by my favorite classic rock band, The Who. I first heard "Squeeze Box" around age twelve after discovering my mother's The Who's Greatest Hits cassette (yes, it was the early 90s). During high school my father took me to see The Who in concert. It was a

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-160551070063277342009-12-15T12:18:00.033-05:002011-10-22T23:49:40.619-04:00

It's been a great year of personal growth. My goal was not to reach, but to accept. Ironically, the process became the conduit for a lot of positive acceleration. This year was filled with "firsts." First, I learned how challenges can be an excellent impetus for change. This year, I pushed myself in ways I never have. I went hot air ballooning, started my book and joined a writers’ group.

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-18807842443020053802009-09-13T20:53:00.032-04:002011-10-17T00:00:18.367-04:00

I have learned a new way to become Zen: kayaking. In July I met a lovely woman while volunteering for the Connecticut Challenge, a charity bike ride supporting cancer survivors. She emailed me a few weeks ago about an upcoming kayaking fundraiser. I’d been struggling to plan a trip with friends, hindered by scheduling and cost. Now I had an opportunity to “Yak” twenty minutes from home! “Sunset

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-58004782083350334702009-06-22T21:12:00.019-04:002010-10-09T21:03:49.183-04:00

Ever since I told my coworkers my family raised chickens, I've been mercilessly henpecked. ;) Most recently, the rubber chicken I'd had hanging from my computer suddenly vanished! In its place was this note: This was my response: If you can't read my chicken scratch (har har), it says "I will pay whatever sum you require (even eggs)! Please don't hurt my chick'n." I signed it "A Heartbroken

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-26069477931920114062009-05-16T23:06:00.041-04:002011-07-14T22:16:04.305-04:00

I’m currently reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s bestselling memoir Eat, Pray, Love, a vivid account of her soul-searching return to self after a failed marriage. Gilbert’s writing is imbued with warmth. She’s instantly relatable. And she’s sassier than Kathy Griffin. An unapologetically quirky gal, she describes herself as “the planet’s most affection life-form (something like a cross between a

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3148861.post-31940650853500875422008-11-20T15:46:00.056-05:002011-09-06T13:54:29.493-04:00

Closing on my condo yesterday is a reality that hasn't quite hit me yet. As I start this new chapter, I still find myself turning back pages, anxiously rereading my mistakes. But I know we define our own reality. After all, "the past is only good when used as ammunition to load your gun of optimism to take on the future." I suppose we should take care to aim our optimism in the right direction.

Larissa Lytwynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04356192763432284567noreply@blogger.com0