I was watching La Revuelta the other night, catching the interview with Leiva. In this Spanish late-night show, he talked about something that sounds like a total nightmare for a musician: he’s lost his voice. He literally has to undergo surgery before every tour just to be able to sing or even speak again.

I can’t even imagine the stress of that. But then he dropped a comment that really stopped me in my tracks.

He said that during the periods when he couldn’t speak —when he was reduced to a whisper at most— he felt much calmer. He was a significantly more peaceful, relaxed person.

That hit home for me.

I’ve always been a talker. Too much, honestly. Sometimes it lands me in trouble, though I guess we’ve all been there. A while back, I tried a radical experiment to fix this: I went full “listening mode.” The rule was simple: stay quiet. If I felt the urge to jump in, I had to swallow it and let the other person keep going. If, at the very end, the thought was still burning a hole in my brain, maybe it was important enough to say. If not? Silence.

I felt exactly what Leiva described.

The “Waiting to Speak” Trap

Most of us think we’re good listeners, but we’re usually just waiting for our turn to speak. We aren’t processing what the other person is saying; we’re just reloading our own arguments.

That’s not listening. That’s just a pause in your own monologue.

Real, active listening is way harder, but the payoff is huge. And it’s not just in your head, it’s physical. There is actual science backing this up. Studies show that just two minutes of silence can lower your blood pressure and drop cortisol levels more effectively than listening to “relaxing” music. Your brain literally needs that silence to repair itself and grow.

Silence is a Leadership Superpower

Beyond the health perks, learning to shut up is one of the most underrated career hacks out there.

In our industry, we often confuse volume with value. We think the person talking the most has the most to offer. But look at the leaders you actually respect. They usually aren’t the ones sucking all the oxygen out of the room.

When you stay quiet, a few things happen:

1. You get the full picture. People rarely state the real problem in the first sentence. If you interrupt, you’re solving the wrong issue.
2. Your words gain weight. If you only speak 10% of the time, people lean in when you finally do. You become the signal, not the noise.
3. You stop reacting. Silence gives you a buffer. It stops you from making those knee-jerk decisions that you have to clean up later.

The Other Side of the Coin

Now, I know some of you are reading this thinking, “Fran, I can barely get a word in as it is.”

I get that. If you’re naturally quiet, your struggle isn’t shutting up. It’s finding an opening.

For you, the nightmare isn’t losing your voice, it’s having one and getting drowned out. If that’s you, this advice about silence is actually for the other people in the room. You need us to be quiet so you can finally step in.

But here is the kicker: Silence is a two-way street.

If the loud folks (like me) do our job and shut up, you have to step into that space. It’s scary, I know. But when the noise drops, that’s your cue. We need your signal to replace our noise.

The Challenge

So here is my challenge to you this week.

If you are a talker: try to be the quietest person in the room. Resist the urge to fill the silence. Let the awkward pauses sit there.

If you are a listener: when that gap opens up, take it.

Let’s try this right now.

I’m opening a Discussion on Commune for this issue, but I’m setting a strict rule:

If you are usually the first one to comment, or if you find it easy to share your opinion, sit this one out. Seriously. Zip it. Read, but don’t type.

I want this discussion thread to be exclusively for the people who usually struggle to speak up. The ones who type a comment and then delete it three times. The ones who stay quiet in the Zoom calls.

The mic is yours. No rush, no pressure. The noise is gone, so jump in whenever you’re ready.

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