Latest news with #Morrie
Focus Malaysia
26-06-2025
- General
- Focus Malaysia
Sometimes it's not about you
THERE'S a quiet kind of freedom that comes from realising this truth: Most of the time, it's not about you. That snappy comment from a colleague? It's probably not personal. The cold shoulder from a friend? It could be their own unresolved frustration. The driver who cuts you off, the student who seems disengaged, the person who doesn't return your message? Chances are, they're wrestling with something you can't see. And yet, we absorb it. Internalise it. Personalise it. We replay the moment again and again in our heads: Did I do something wrong? Did I offend them? Are they upset with me? That mental loop—it's exhausting, isn't it? But here's the thing: people are complex. Messy. Emotionally layered. And most of the time, their reactions say more about what's going on inside them than anything you did or said. A blue-ticked WhatsApp message doesn't always mean you're being ignored. A sharp e-mail response doesn't automatically signal disrespect. Sometimes it's just a bad day. Or a bad week. Or a life that's fraying at the edges. Mitch Albom wrote in Tuesdays with Morrie, 'Don't let someone else's behaviour destroy your inner peace.' Simple, yes; but not always easy. And I had to learn this lesson the long way around. Years ago, a senior colleague I respected suddenly became distant. Short in meetings. Cool in conversation. It ate at me. I kept replaying our last few interactions, trying to pinpoint what I had said wrong. I even considered apologising for something I wasn't sure I had done. But then one evening, long after office hours, I saw him still in his room, head in his hands, visibly exhausted. A few days later, I learned he was dealing with a difficult family situation that had been weighing heavily on him for months. It was never about me. I can't tell you how many times I've carried someone else's storm like it was my fault for causing the rain. We all do it, especially when we're wired to care. But over time, I've come to appreciate the emotional clarity that comes from this one practice: pause before taking it personally. Sometimes people are rude because they're tired. Sometimes they're distant because they're anxious. Sometimes they're cold because they don't know how to say, 'I'm not okay.' And sometimes—they're just human. The Stoics knew this well. Marcus Aurelius wrote in his Meditations, 'You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realise this, and you will find strength.' And perhaps that's where real strength lies—not in retaliating, not in overthinking, but in choosing what we allow to take root inside us. You see, when you take everything personally, you become a sponge for other people's emotional clutter. You carry burdens that were never yours to begin with. You give away your peace in exchange for their problems. But there's another way. I call it the Templar shrug—inspired by Richard Templar, the author of 2015 bestseller The Rules of Life. Throughout his book, Templar comes across as someone who has mastered the art of emotional boundaries. Not because he doesn't care, but because he knows better than to waste energy on things that don't serve him. He writes with the kind of clarity that suggests a quiet confidence: don't take things personally, don't get dragged into unnecessary drama, and most of all, don't give people the power to ruin your day. Templar doesn't say it in so many words, but what he's really advocating for is freedom—the freedom to move through life without collecting other people's emotional baggage. The freedom to shrug off what isn't yours and walk on, lighter. That, to me, is a form of wisdom. So the next time someone seems off, consider this: What if it has nothing to do with you? What if they're carrying something invisible—and the best thing you can do is not add your own assumptions to the weight? And if you're the one having a bad day, remember: others aren't mind readers either. If you need space, take it. If you need support, ask. But don't let your inner turmoil spill out as stray sharpness—someone else might carry that the whole day, thinking it was their fault. We're all navigating our own quiet battles. Some visible, many not. So be kind. And when someone's edge meets your calm, don't immediately absorb it; shrug and move on. Because most of the time it's not about you. ‒ June Ir Dr Nahrizul Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, and the Principal of Ibnu Sina Residential College, Universiti Malaya. The views expressed are solely of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Focus Malaysia. Main image: Pexels/Seng Lam Ho
Chicago Tribune
27-05-2025
- Business
- Chicago Tribune
Morrie Much, real estate attorney who was active in Jewish causes, dies
Chicago real estate lawyer Morrie Much co-founded the Much Shelist law firm and was active in Jewish causes, providing support to both the Holocaust Museum in Skokie and the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles. 'He was greatly skilled at his craft, particularly in the areas of real estate, corporate law and secured lending,' said Michael Freed, a law partner of Much's for 33 years. 'He took time to understand the people with whom he was dealing and zeroed in on the important legal issues in the matters that they brought him.' Much, 86, died of complications from prostate cancer April 30 at the Northbrook Inn memory care center in Northbrook, said his son, Larry. He was a resident of Highland Park. Born in Chicago, Much was the son of immigrants from Belarus. He grew up on Oglesby Avenue in the South Shore neighborhood and attended Hyde Park High School, where he was captain of the football team and competed in track and field, setting an Illinois state record for the shot put, his family said. Much received a bachelor's degree in 1959 from the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign and considered becoming an architect. Ultimately, however, he decided to pursue the law, and he picked up a law degree in 1962 from the University of Chicago Law School. Much took a job with the Chicago law firm Arvey, Hodes & Mantynband. He was drawn to real estate law because his father had invested in real estate and needed help with contracts, his family said. Much later joined the Raynor Mitchell law firm, where he became a partner. When the other Raynor Mitchell partners were retiring, Much decided to start his own firm, so he teamed up with lawyer Michael Shelist to form Much Shelist. Much Shelist grew to focus not just on real estate but also on antitrust law and estate law, among other practice areas. 'When I ventured into a new practice of representing clients in antitrust litigation, it was a departure from our firm's then-existing practice specialties,' Freed said. 'But Morrie saw the potential to the practice and led the firm's decision to support me in what became a significant practice area for us.' Much Shelist grew to be an approximately 90-lawyer firm whose partners were determined to remain independent as the legal industry consolidated. 'There's still more prestige in going to the bigger law firms,' Much acknowledged to the Tribune in 1995. 'No matter what a lot of interviewees tell us, if they get a job offer from a larger firm, 9 out of 10 times they'll take it because of what they see as perceived advantages. If they come with us, however, they usually find we're more collegial, more hands-on and offer challenging work.' Mitchell S. Roth, Much Shelist's co-chairman, called Much 'your consummate founding partner who was well-respected and the way you would picture a leader of a law firm.' 'Morrie was not only a successful real estate lawyer, but he also was approachable and was a visionary,' Roth said. 'He really left a legacy of firm culture, a strong family, doing it all and being successful without having to do it all at a large (law) firm.' Much also was active in the Chicago Bar Association, chairing its continuing legal education subcommittee and its land development and construction subcommittee. Much supported the Jewish United Fund of Chicago and helped to support the construction of the Holocaust Museum in Skokie and the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles, which is a group that has worked to combat antisemitism, perform Holocaust research and hunt down Nazi war criminals. Much retired from his firm not long after turning 75, his family said. 'He was respectful, intelligent, generous caring nurturing father who took pride in honoring his word, being honorable and ethical,' Larry Much said. 'And while he was a stickler about contracts, he liked to keep things simple when it came to documents. That is what was important to him.' Much's wife, Janet, died in January. In addition to his son, Much is survived by two daughters, Elizabeth Much and Katherine Lipschutz; and four grandchildren. Services were held.
Yahoo
23-04-2025
- Automotive
- Yahoo
Morries Subaru of Eau Claire makes large donation to Feed My People
EAU CLAIRE, Wis. (WLAX/WEUX) – A local business is giving back and being recognized as an organization that helps those who may be struggling. Morrie's Subaru of Eau Claire donated just over $39,000 to the Feed My People Food Bank for the nationwide Subaru Share the Love event. Feed My People Communications Manager, Susie Haugley, explains, 'Here at the food bank, we're able to purchase a lot for $1 than (we can) at the grocery store. So, $1 really stretches a lot further because of our purchasing power. We like to say approximately $1 is approximately enough for groceries for 2 meals. So, it really goes far.' A spokesperson for Subaru says the funds for the Share the Love Event come from the number of vehicles that the dealership sells each year. She says reaching $39,000 in donations is an impressive amount. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
