Years ago, I worked with a CEO named Boris Levin, who ran a precision-manufacturing company here in Connecticut.

Smart. Logical. Engineering-minded.
The kind of leader who reads data the way most people read novels.

The company was in a rough patch — morale low, pressure high, a lot of “keep your head down and survive the quarter” energy.

One Saturday at 5:00 AM, Boris heard a noise in his house.

Too early for his kids.
Too loud to ignore.

He woke his wife and whispered,
“Be ready to call 911.”

Then he crept down the hallway — slowly, carefully — convinced he was walking toward either a burglar or some kind of wildlife wandering in from the woods.

He pushed open his son’s bedroom door,
and froze.

No burglar.
No raccoon.
No bear.

Just his eight-year-old son, standing proudly in the middle of the room — fully dressed in his Little League uniform.

Hat. Cleats. Belt.

Jersey tucked in with military precision.

Practice wasn’t for nine hours.

“What are you doing?” Boris asked.

His son grinned.
“I can’t wait to play baseball again.”

That was it.

That was the moment.

Nothing epic.
Nothing emotional.
Just a kid excited to begin.

But something shifted in Boris right then — a clarity he hadn’t felt in months.

What He Did With That Moment

That Monday, Boris told the story to his company — all 100+ employees.

He described the noise at 5:00 AM.
The fear.
The ridiculous hallway “burglary patrol.”
And then the joy of finding his son fully dressed for something he loved.

Then he said:

“I think we should all be as excited about our work as my son is about baseball — myself included.”

And he gave them a challenge:

“Find one way this month to rekindle your excitement for what you do.”

What happened next surprised even him.

Employees started reorganizing spaces.
Rewriting processes.
Celebrating wins.
Sharing small moments they hadn’t noticed before.

At the end of the month, Boris threw a celebration — and his son showed up in full uniform.

Morale went up.
Absenteeism went down.
Teams started opening meetings with moments instead of metrics.

Those shifts aren’t abstract — they drive productivity, improve retention, accelerate buy-in, and increase team ownership. A small story becomes a business lever.

Boris told me later:

“That one story changed the way I lead.
It reminded people why we show up — not just what we do.” 

Why I’m Telling You This

Because you’re one moment away from changing the way your team listens, follows, believes, and buys in.

Not with a perfect speech.
Not with a polished slide deck.
Not with a vision statement with “synergy” in it.

With a moment.

A tiny one.
A human one.
An honest one.

The kind of moment you’ve probably already lived this week — and overlooked.

This is what influential leaders do — they shift culture not with pressure, but with purpose.
With moments. With meaning.