That One Time At Boehringer Ingelheim
Picture it: Exotic Danbury, Connecticut.
Not exactly where you'd expect to find the emotional highlight of your year. But Boehringer Ingelheim? You had me at hello. (Shoutout to Lesli Nordstrom for opening the door)
It started with an invitation to keynote their 2025 Focus Day; a few thousand employees showing up live and virtually to talk mindset, mission, and what it takes to do work that matters. I've given a lot of talks. This felt more like an adoption. 🤗
From the minute I stepped onto their campus (which feels more like the NASA Space Center circa 1967 than a pharma HQ), I knew something was different. I met real people who give a damn. Scientists. Sales teams. Mental health advocates. Execs who don't talk down. Everyone faces the same direction with no stock price breathing down their necks.
Then came the tour. Imagine the "World of Chocolate" at Hershey Park, but instead of carbs, you're learning how molecules become medicine. Real scientists, pipettes, centrifuges, cryobanks, decades of work compressed into one walk through the future. Somewhere between the clean rooms and the dry ice, I realized this wasn't performative science.
I had lunch with folks working in oncology and mental health—some of the most grounded, brilliant people I've met in any industry. We talked about burnout, advocacy, and how to keep going when the wins feel slow and the losses feel permanent.
I hit the stage after some motivating words and videos from senior leadership, and, to be honest, I didn't need to perform. I just had to show up, tell my story, and let it land. The BI (yes, we peons say BI) culture makes space for cancer, camaraderie, and connection. (Also, the commissary food was *Chef's kiss*)
To the BI team: thank you. You didn't just give me a mic. You gave me a seat at the table. You let me in and made me feel like I belonged. That doesn't happen every day. You've been doing the work quietly for years without the glitz or the need for a trophy case.
To everyone who shook my hand, asked a question, walked me through a molecule's origin story, or just smiled in the hallway: I won't forget it.
You made a core memory. Let's do it again.
Oh—and did I mention it was my birthday?
And they knew.
After my keynote, they surprised me with a cake and a chorus of "Happy Birthday." Then later, at the outdoor reception, a second cake appeared—this one printed with a photo of me at 13, standing next to my piano-shaped Bar Mitzvah cake from 1987.
Full circle doesn't even cover it. I'm alive. I'm still here. And I got to celebrate that moment surrounded by people who fight every day to make life better for cancer patients.
That's not something you forget.
‼️ And yes—I made it home that night to celebrate with my wife and the kids.
