Self-compassionate people make more progress than harsh self-critics.

In an experiment, after failing a test, the self-compassion group studied harder than the self-esteem group.

Self-criticism keeps the threat system on, and the field of options you can see narrows with it.

I keep returning to this sentence in Andre Agassi's memoir: "I play tennis for a living, even though I hate tennis, hate it with a dark and secret passion, and always have."

His memoir, Open, came out in 2009, and Andre's career had reached its lowest point 12 years earlier, in November of 1997, when Agassi was 27 and ranked 141st in the world. Two years earlier, he'd been number one. He'd been hitting balls in his father's backyard since age 3, and that drill‑like voice had become his inner voice. In 1997, he wanted to quit, but he wouldn't let himself. "In true fashion to my process," he writes, "I rebelled against myself. I said I didn't deserve to quit."

That last line stops me in my tracks every time because it's the most accurate description of a state many of us call weakness, apathy, laziness, lack of discipline, or some failure of will. Agassi at 141 wasn't any of these things, but he'd stopped being agentic. I recognize the state, and so will anyone who's spent much longer than they're willing to admit staring at that email they can't make themselves send.

By agency, I mean the capacity to be an active participant in your own life. The ability to notice, in almost any moment, that more than one option is available, and then make an intentional choice. Agency is the antidote to helplessness because it lets you treat what's in front of you as a question instead of a verdict. The voice many of us were raised to mistake for our conscience, the one that beats us up when we fall short, is what narrows the field........

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