- Tamar Gaffin-Cahn
- Feb 27
- 5 min read
What I'm Reading
This month, I challenge you to choose to see the good.
Yes, it’s a pain in the ass to shovel out your car.
Yes, it’s near impossible to work from home when your kids have a snow day.
You can’t control the weather, but you can control how you make meaning of the chaos.
Shoveling is hard, and it’s exercise.
Can’t get work done, and you get to witness your kids (finally) having a snow day after years of virtual learning.
Here, you’re gifted opportunities to reframe the chaos into goodness. I was reminded of this when reading The Place of All Possibility: Cultivating Creativity Through Ancient Jewish Wisdom by Adina Allen.
Turning chaos into goodness is an act of creativity; it’s meaning-making. How can you take the chaos and use creativity to make meaning into something good?
What I'm Listening To
If you love thinking about the meaning of life, this podcast is for you. Three big thinkers: Bill Burnett and Dave Evans, authors of Designing Your Life, out of Stanford University, and Bob Waldinger, psychiatrist, psychoanalyst, and Zen priest of Harvard University, discuss student questions about the meaning of life, or rather, the meaning of your life, and how to find that. Here are my takeaways. What are yours?
Watch or listen here: You Can Design Meaning Right NOW: Bob Waldinger, MD, Harvard & Bill Burnett and Dave Evans, Stanford |
What I'm Doing
Do you actually want to change? What’s your intuition saying? Or is part of you more comfortable staying where you are, even if that means holding onto frustration or slipping into a victim mindset?
It's a hard question, I know.
We might choose the familiar, even when it’s not working, because the unknown feels riskier. Jumping without seeing the ground is terrifying.
This month, I’m focusing on a bias toward action. Nothing extreme, just choosing movement over hesitation. It might be trying a new coffee order, asking your boss for what you need, or finally booking the trip. For me, it’s been asking for help with hard decisions.
We hold onto emotions longer than we need to. Ask yourself: Do I want to keep carrying this? Sometimes the answer is yes, and that’s okay. Some feelings need time. But staying there is still a choice.
Notice when you start telling yourself the same story or making excuses. I can’t spend five minutes editing my resume. I can’t find five people to ask for a career conversation. Pause and ground yourself.
Focus more on alignment; does this behavior match your values? When your actions don’t match your values, you can feel the disconnect. That tension is useful because it’s pointing you toward something that matters. Instead of explaining it away, ask: what value is underneath this, and how can I honor it with action? If a friend hurts you, the deeper value is honesty or support. What would actually move you closer to that kind of relationship?
Less overthinking. More choosing. Then moving.
What's Moved Me
It’s with deep, deep sadness that I share the passing of the most impactful mentor throughout my life, Leslie Sholl Jaffe, pictured above. I met Leslie when I first realized I wanted to be a coach and was researching the profession. We scheduled a 30-minute call, but we ended up talking for nearly two hours. She was far more than any professional title or word could describe. Beloved by all, she was one of those people who knew, knew me, knew suffering and pain, knew joy and happiness, and would guide me through mine. I cried during every call we had because she could see right into my soul. She was willing to mentor me in retirement, purely because she liked me. How lucky am I?
She helped me grieve the loss of a close friend by validating my experiences with her visiting me from the other world and sharing how to stay connected to people who are no longer physically here. She helped me navigate life’s complex emotions and how we feel about ourselves as those emotions change us. She helped me heal my inner child during a painful breakup of a friendship. We discussed leadership, coaching, and the art of guiding people to be their best and most authentic selves. She spent her time walking the walk with me, leading by example, the best kind of learning.
I visited her at her home in Austin, TX, in April 2024. It was the only time I met her in person. We spent all day together, talking, laughing, sharing life stories, crying, learning, and growing. It was, and is, a profound example of the beauty of an intergenerational friendship. In her retirement, she started making jewelry. That day, we designed a necklace for me that I’ve worn every day since it arrived in my mailbox.
We have lost a profound teacher. I'm devastated that I can no longer learn from her. And yet, she is a blessing; her memory is a blessing; and I am heartbroken and ever so grateful.
What I'm Wiggling To
Noah Kahan’s new song, The Great Divide. It’s about a childhood friendship lost and refound, about mental illness and loneliness. In early February, I had the privilege of traveling to Brazil to officiate a high school friend’s wedding. I ended up having a painful conversation with a friend who, without acknowledging, is heartbroken by the loss of friendships from our younger days. We have two choices when these moments happen: accept or work to rebuild the relationship. If one doesn’t work, try the other, but there is still a choice.
The third option, regardless of outcome, is to wish this person well. As Noah Kahan says,
I hope you settle down, I hope you marry rich
I hope you’re scared of only ordinary shit
Like murderers and ghosts and cancer on your skin
And not your soul, and what he might do with it.
Stay Playful,
Tamar
