If you’re someone who hasn’t seen me in close to a decade, you’d be surprised by a number of things. The way I look, sure, maybe by the grey in my beard. But there’s one aspect of me, above all else, that will be most noticeable.

There was a time in my life when I was loud. Boisterous even. I didn’t even have to be drinking to raise my voice or share an unwarranted opinion. I’d speak only when I wanted to be heard, and almost exclusively when I didn’t know what I was talking about.

I lacked shame. I lacked the ability to listen and understand what others were saying. The only time I considered what to say was while someone else was speaking. Rather than understand the point someone was trying to make and respond with tact, I was repeating my reply in my head over and over just so I could get it out.

Yesterday I alluded to the fact that the Stoic philosophy has had an enormous impact on my life over the years. One principle has stood out among the countless others:

What someone I haven’t seen in 10 years might notice about me today is that I’m far more reserved. That reservation isn’t timidness, it’s not a fear of sharing my thoughts. Rather it’s an understanding that it is possible to detract from a conversation.

In a world where I strive to have a net positive effect, words are abundant and quantity does not equate to value.

When I speak, my sole aim is to maximize the impact of my words.