Your elusive creative genius | Elizabeth Gilbert

Translator: Triin Sinissaar Reviewer: Maria Liivak

I am a writer.

Ma olen kirjanik.

Writing books is my profession but it's more than that, of course.

Raamatute kirjutamine on minu jaoks amet, aga ka palju enamat.

It is also my great lifelong love and fascination.

See on mu elupõline armastus ja kirg.

And I don't expect that that's ever going to change.

Ja vaevalt, et see kunagi muutub.

But, that said, something kind of peculiar has happened recently

Aga hiljuti juhtus midagi veidrat

in my life and in my career,

nii mu minu elus kui karjääris

which has caused me to have to recalibrate my whole relationship with this work.

ja see sundis mind ümber hindama, kuidas oma töösse suhtun.

And the peculiar thing is that I recently wrote this book,

Veider asi on see, et ma kirjutasin hiljuti raamatu,

this memoir called "Eat, Pray, Love"

mälestusteraamatu "Söö, palveta, armasta",

which, decidedly unlike any of my previous books,

mis, erinevalt kõigist mu eelmistest raamatutest,

went out in the world for some reason, and became this big,

levis miskipärast üle maailma ja sai suureks

mega-sensation, international bestseller thing.

sensatsiooniliseks rahvusvaheliseks bestselleriks.

The result of which is that everywhere I go now,

Tänu sellele käitutakse minuga nüüd igal pool

people treat me like I'm doomed.

nagu ma oleksin hukule määratud.

Seriously -- doomed, doomed!

Tõsiselt - hukule määratud!

Like, they come up to me now, all worried, and they say,

Inimesed tulevad murelikult mu juurde ja ütlevad:

"Kas sa ei karda, et ei suuda iial seda saavutust ületada?

"Aren't you afraid you're never going to be able to top that?

Aren't you afraid you're going to keep writing for your whole life

Kas sa ei karda, et kuigi sa kirjutad kogu oma ülejäänud elu,

and you're never again going to create a book

ei suuda sa enam iial kirjutada raamatut,

that anybody in the world cares about at all,

mis kellelegi maailmas veidikenegi korda läheks,

ever again?"

enam mitte iialgi?"

So that's reassuring, you know.

Üsna julgustav, eks ole?

But it would be worse, except for that I happen to remember

Asi oleks hullem, kui ma juhuslikult ei mäletaks,

that over 20 years ago, when I was a teenager,

et kui ma üle 20 aasta tagasi, teismelisena, rääkisin,

when I first started telling people that I wanted to be a writer,

et ma tahan kirjanikuks saada,

kohtasin samasugust hirmunud suhtumist.

I was met with this same sort of fear-based reaction.

Minult küsiti: "Kas sa ei karda, et ei saavuta kunagi edu?

And people would say, "Aren't you afraid you're never going to have any success?

Aren't you afraid the humiliation of rejection will kill you?

Kas sa ei karda, et sured alandusest, kui sind ära põlatakse?

Aren't you afraid that you're going to work your whole life at this craft

Kas sa ei karda, et töötad selles valdkonnas terve elu,

aga sellest ei tule iial mitte midagi välja

and nothing's ever going to come of it

ja sa sured purunenud unistuste riismetel,

and you're going to die on a scrap heap of broken dreams

suu täis läbikukkumise kibedat tuhka?"

with your mouth filled with bitter ash of failure?"

(Naer)

(Laughter)

Like that, you know.

Noh, umbes midagi sellist.

The answer -- the short answer to all those questions is, "Yes."

Lühike vastus kõigile neile küsimustele on "Jah".

Yes, I'm afraid of all those things.

Jah, ma kardan kõiki neid asju.

And I always have been.

Olen alati kartnud.

And I'm afraid of many, many more things besides

Peale selle kardan ma ka paljusid teisi asju,

that people can't even guess at,

mida inimesed aimatagi ei oska.

like seaweed and other things that are scary.

Näiteks vetikaid ja muid hirmsaid asju.

But, when it comes to writing,

Aga kui asi puudutab kirjutamist,

the thing that I've been sort of thinking about lately, and wondering about lately,

olen viimasel ajal mõelnud ja imestanud, et miks?

is why?

On see mõistuspärane?

You know, is it rational?

Kas on loogiline eeldada, et keegi

Is it logical that anybody should be expected

to be afraid of the work that they feel they were put on this Earth to do.

peaks kartma tööd, mida ta on sündinud tegema?

And what is it specifically about creative ventures

Eriti käib see loomingu kohta,

that seems to make us really nervous about each other's mental health

mis paneb meid üksteise vaimse tervise pärast muretsema,

in a way that other careers kind of don't do, you know?

viisil, mis teiste tööde puhul justkui ei kehti.

Like my dad, for example, was a chemical engineer

Mu isa oli keemiatehnoloog ja ma ei mäleta,

and I don't recall once in his 40 years of chemical engineering

et 40 keemiatehnoloogina töötatud aasta jooksul

anybody asking him if he was afraid to be a chemical engineer, you know?

oleks keegi küsinud, kas ta kardab keemiatehnoloog olla.

"That chemical-engineering block, John, how's it going?"

Ei küsitud, et kas sul on keemiatehnoloogiline kriis, John?

It just didn't come up like that, you know?

Keegi ei osanud niimoodi mõeldagi.

But to be fair, chemical engineers as a group

Aga keemiatehnoloogid kollektiivselt pole muidugi

haven't really earned a reputation over the centuries

sajandite jooksul ära teeninud reputatsiooni,

for being alcoholic manic-depressives.

nagu oleksid nad maniakaal-depressiivsed alkohoolikud.

(Laughter)

(Naer)

We writers, we kind of do have that reputation,

Meil, kirjanikel, paraku on selline reputatsioon,

and not just writers, but creative people across all genres,

ja mitte ainult kirjanikel, vaid kõigi valdkondade loomeinimestel,

it seems, have this reputation for being enormously mentally unstable.

meil on reputatsioon, et oleme vaimselt väga tasakaalutud.

And all you have to do is look at the very grim death count

Piisab, kui vaadata väga sünget surmajuhtude nimekirja,

in the 20th century alone, of really magnificent creative minds

sest ainuüksi 20. sajandil oli palju säravaid loomeinimesi,

who died young and often at their own hands, you know?

kes surid noorelt ja sageli oma käe läbi.

And even the ones who didn't literally commit suicide

Ja isegi need, kes otseselt enesetappu ei sooritanud,

seem to be really undone by their gifts, you know.

justkui hävitati nende enda ande poolt.

Norman Mailer, just before he died, last interview, he said,

Norman Mailer ütles enne surma, oma viimases intervjuus:

"Every one of my books has killed me a little more."

"Iga mu romaan tappis mind veidi enam."

An extraordinary statement to make about your life's work.

Uskumatu ütlus oma elutöö kohta, kas pole?

But we don't even blink when we hear somebody say this,

Aga me ei pilguta silmagi, kui keegi niimoodi ütleb,

because we've heard that kind of stuff for so long

sest me oleme selliseid asju nii ammu kuulnud

and somehow we've completely internalized and accepted collectively

ja oleme kollektiivselt omaks võtnud,

this notion that creativity and suffering are somehow inherently linked

et loomine ja kannatus on olemuslikult seotud

and that artistry, in the end, will always ultimately lead to anguish.

ja looming viib lõpuks ikka meeleheiteni.

And the question that I want to ask everybody here today

Tahaksin täna kõigilt siinolijatelt küsida,

is are you guys all cool with that idea?

kas see on teie arvates normaalne?

Are you comfortable with that?

Kas te lepite selle mõttega -

Because you look at it even from an inch away and, you know --

sest kui asja korrakski kõrvalt vaadata, siis teate -

I'm not at all comfortable with that assumption.

mina ei lepi selle seisukohaga kohe sugugi.

I think it's odious.

Minu meelest on see talumatu.

And I also think it's dangerous,

Ja samuti ohtlik, nii et ma ei taha,

and I don't want to see it perpetuated into the next century.

et see põlistuks ka järgmisel sajandil.

On parem, kui me julgustame oma säravaid loovinimesi elama.

I think it's better if we encourage our great creative minds to live.

And I definitely know that, in my case -- in my situation --

Ja ma tean kindlasti, et minu olukorras

it would be very dangerous for me to start sort of leaking down that dark path

oleks väga ohtlik, kui ma pööraksin sellele pimedale rajale

of assumption,

ja järgiksin seda seisukohta, eriti arvestades,

particularly given the circumstance that I'm in right now in my career.

millises etapis mu karjäär praegu on.

Which is -- you know, like check it out,

Vaadake - lugu on nii, et

I'm pretty young, I'm only about 40 years old.

ma olen üsna noor, ainult umbes 40 aastat vana.

Ma suudan ehk veel 40 aastat tööd teha.

I still have maybe another four decades of work left in me.

And it's exceedingly likely that anything I write from this point forward

Ja tõenäoliselt kõike, mida ma edaspidi kirjutan,

is going to be judged by the world as the work that came after

arvustatakse üldsuse poolt kui seda, mis tuli pärast

the freakish success of my last book, right?

minu eelmise raamatu jaburat menu.

I should just put it bluntly, because we're all sort of friends here now --

Ütlen keerutamata, sest oleme ju nüüd kõik sõbrad -

it's exceedingly likely that my greatest success is behind me.

on ülimalt tõenäoline, et suurim edu on mul juba seljataga.

So Jesus, what a thought!

Issand, milline mõte!

That's the kind of thought that could lead a person

See on mõte, mis võiks panna inimese

to start drinking gin at nine o'clock in the morning,

kell üheksa hommikul džinni jooma

and I don't want to go there.

ja ma ei taha, et minuga nii juhtuks.

(Laughter)

(Naer)

I would prefer to keep doing this work that I love.

Ma eelistaksin teha edasi tööd, mida ma armastan.

Ja küsimus on seega - kuidas?

And so, the question becomes, how?

And so, it seems to me, upon a lot of reflection,

Pärast pikka järelemõtlemist tundub mulle, et

that the way that I have to work now, in order to continue writing,

selleks, et ka edaspidi kirjutamist jätkata,

is that I have to create some sort of protective psychological construct, right?

peaksin looma endale psühholoogilise kaitse.

I have to sort of find some way to have a safe distance

Peaksin leidma võimaluse hoida kirjutades turvalist distantsi

between me, as I am writing, and my very natural anxiety

iseenda ja selle hirmu vahel, mida ma loomulikult tunnen

about what the reaction to that writing is going to be, from now on.

seoses sellega, kuidas mu kirjutisi edaspidi vastu võetakse.

And, as I've been looking, over the last year,

Olles viimastel aastatel otsinud eeskuju,

for models for how to do that,

I've been sort of looking across time,

olen ma vaadanud ajas tagasi

and I've been trying to find other societies

ja püüdnud uurida teisi ühiskondi,

to see if they might have had better and saner ideas than we have

et kas neil on meist paremaid ja mõistlikumaid arusaamu,

about how to help creative people

kuidas aidata loomeinimestel hakkama saada

sort of manage the inherent emotional risks of creativity.

loovuse loomulike emotsionaalsete riskidega.

And that search has led me to ancient Greece and ancient Rome.

Jõudsin oma otsingutega Vana-Kreeka ja Vana-Roomani.

So stay with me, because it does circle around and back.

Palun kannatust, sest ma jõuan ringiga peateema juurde tagasi.

But, ancient Greece and ancient Rome --

Aga Vana-Kreekas ja Vana-Roomas

people did not happen to believe that creativity

ei uskunud inimesed, et

came from human beings back then, OK?

loovus tulenes inimestest endist.

People believed that creativity was this divine attendant spirit

Inimesed uskusid, et loovus on jumalik abistav vaim,

that came to human beings from some distant and unknowable source,

kes tuleb inimese juurde kaugest ja tundmatust allikast,

for distant and unknowable reasons.

kaugetel ja tundmatutel põhjustel.

The Greeks famously called these divine attendant spirits of creativity "daemons."

Kreeklased nimetasid seda jumalikku loovuse vaimu "daemon".

Socrates, famously, believed that he had a daemon

Sokrates teatavasti uskus, et tal on oma daemon,

who spoke wisdom to him from afar.

kes sosistas talle kuskilt kaugelt tarkusi.

The Romans had the same idea,

Roomlastel oli sarnane arusaam,

but they called that sort of disembodied creative spirit a genius.

aga nemad kutsusid kehatut loovat vaimu geeniuseks.

Which is great, because the Romans did not actually think

Mis on väga tore, sest roomlased ei arvanud,

that a genius was a particularly clever individual.

nagu geenius oleks mõni eriti nutikas üksikisik.

They believed that a genius was this, sort of magical divine entity,

Nad uskusid, et geenius on maagiline jumalik olend,

who was believed to literally live in the walls of an artist's studio,

kes elab kunstniku ateljee seintes,

veidi nagu majahaldjas Dobby,

kind of like Dobby the house elf,

and who would come out

ja kes tuleb nähtamatuna välja ning abistab kunstnikku tema töös,

and sort of invisibly assist the artist with their work

aidates selle töö tulemust vormida.

and would shape the outcome of that work.

So brilliant -- there it is, right there, that distance that I'm talking about --

Suurepärane - siin ongi distants, millest rääkisin -

that psychological construct to protect you from the results of your work.

psühholoogiline kaitse, mis turvab sind su töötulemuste eest.

And everyone knew that this is how it functioned, right?

Kusjuures kõik teadsid, kuidas see toimis.

So the ancient artist was protected from certain things,

Antiikaja kunstnik oli kaitstud teatud asjade eest,

like, for example, too much narcissism, right?

nagu näiteks ülemäärane nartsissism.

If your work was brilliant, you couldn't take all the credit for it,

Kui su töö oli hiilgav, ei saanud sa kogu au endale võtta,

everybody knew that you had this disembodied genius who had helped you.

sest kõik teadsid, et sind aitas kehatu jumalik vaim.

If your work bombed, not entirely your fault, you know?

Kui su töö ebaõnnestus, ei olnud ka see täielikult sinu süü.

Everyone knew your genius was kind of lame.

Kõik mõistsid, et sul on mannetu geenius.

(Laughter)

Läänes suhtusid inimesed loovusse sel viisil väga pikka aega.

And this is how people thought about creativity in the West

for a really long time.

Aga siis tuli renessanss ja kõik muutus,

And then the Renaissance came and everything changed,

and we had this big idea, and the big idea was,

meile tuli üks uhke mõte ja see seisnes selles,

let's put the individual human being at the center of the universe

et edaspidi olgu üksikisik universumi keskmeks,

olgu ta kõrgemal jumalatest ja imedest, ning maailmas polnud enam ruumi

above all gods and mysteries,

and there's no more room for mystical creatures

müstilistele olenditele, kes vahendavad jumalikke sõnu.

who take dictation from the divine.

And it's the beginning of rational humanism,

Sealt sai alguse ratsionaalne humanism

and people started to believe that creativity

ja inimesed hakkasid uskuma, et loovus

tuleneb täielikult üksikisiku minast.

came completely from the self of the individual.

And for the first time in history,

Esimest korda ajaloos

you start to hear people referring to this or that artist as being a genius,

hakkasid inimesed nimetama kunstnikku ennast geeniuseks,

rather than having a genius.

mitte ei öelnud, et tal on oma geenius.

And I got to tell you, I think that was a huge error.

Ja minu arvates oli see suur viga.

You know, I think that allowing somebody, one mere person

Kui me laseme ühel ainsal inimesel

to believe that he or she is like, the vessel,

uskuda, et tema ongi anum,

you know, like the font and the essence and the source

pühitsetud vee astja ja tuum ja allikas, millest lähtub

kogu jumalikkus, looming, tabamatu, igavene müsteerium,

of all divine, creative, unknowable, eternal mystery

is just a smidge too much responsibility to put on one fragile, human psyche.

on see tsipa liiga suur vastutus hapra inimpsüühika jaoks.

It's like asking somebody to swallow the sun.

Sama hea oleks paluda kellelgi päike alla neelata.

It just completely warps and distorts egos,

Selle tulemuseks on väändunud ja moondunud ego

and it creates all these unmanageable expectations about performance.

ja see loob käsitamatuid ootusi oma töötulemuste osas.

And I think the pressure of that

Olen veendunud, et see vaimne surve

has been killing off our artists for the last 500 years.

on tapnud meie kunstnikke viimase 500 aasta jooksul.

And, if this is true,

Ja kui see on tõsi,

and I think it is true,

ning minu arvates on,

the question becomes, what now?

järgneb küsimus, et kuidas edasi?

Can we do this differently?

Kas me saaksime seda muuta?

Maybe go back to some more ancient understanding

Võib-olla minna tagasi iidsema arusaamani sellest,

about the relationship between humans and the creative mystery.

milline on suhe inimeste ja loomeprotsessi müsteeriumi vahel?

Maybe not.

Võib-olla mitte.

Maybe we can't just erase 500 years of rational humanistic thought

Võib-olla ei saa kustutada 500 aastat ratsionaalset humanistlikku mõtlemist

in one 18 minute speech.

ühe 18-minutilise kõnega.

And there's probably people in this audience

Ja tänase publiku seas on tõenäoliselt inimesi,

who would raise really legitimate scientific suspicions

kes tõstataksid õigustatud teaduslikke kahtlusi,

about the notion of, basically, fairies

kui räägitakse haldjatest,

who follow people around rubbing fairy juice on their projects and stuff.

kes järgnevad inimestele ja puistavad nende projektidesse võlutolmu.

I'm not, probably, going to bring you all along with me on this.

Kindlasti ei ole te kõik minuga ühel nõul.

But the question that I kind of want to pose is --

Kuid küsimus, mida tahan esitada, on järgmine:

you know, why not?

aga kuulge, miks mitte?

Why not think about it this way?

Miks me ei võiks sellest niimoodi mõelda?

Because it makes as much sense as anything else I have ever heard

See on sama loogiline kui ükskõik milline muu seletus,

in terms of explaining the utter maddening capriciousness

mida ma olen kunagi kuulnud

of the creative process.

loomingulise protsessi hulluksajava kapriissuse kohta.

A process which, as anybody who has ever tried to make something --

Igaüks, kes on kunagi püüdnud midagi luua -

see tähendab tegelikult, et igaüks siin ruumis -

which is to say basically everyone here ---

knows does not always behave rationally.

teab, et see protsess ei toimi alati ratsionaalsel viisil.

And, in fact, can sometimes feel downright paranormal.

Vahel tundub see lausa paranormaalsena.

I had this encounter recently

Kohtusin hiljuti suurepärase ameerika luuletaja Ruth Stone'iga,

where I met the extraordinary American poet Ruth Stone,

who's now in her 90s, but she's been a poet her entire life

kes on üle 90 aasta vana ja terve elu olnud luuletaja,

and she told me that when she was growing up in rural Virginia,

ja ta rääkis mulle, kuidas ta kasvas üles maal, Virginias,

she would be out working in the fields,

ja käis põllul tööl

and she said she would feel and hear a poem

ja ta ütles, et tundis ja kuulis,

coming at her from over the landscape.

kuidas luuletus tuli üle väljade tema poole.

And she said it was like a thunderous train of air.

Ta ütles, et see oli nagu kõmisev tuulepuhang.

And it would come barreling down at her over the landscape.

See tuli mühinal üle väljade tema suunas.

Ta tundis selle tulekut, sest maa värises ta jalge all.

And she felt it coming, because it would shake the earth under her feet.

She knew that she had only one thing to do at that point,

Ta teadis, et sel hetkel sai ta teha vaid ühte,

and that was to, in her words, "run like hell."

tema sõnul "joosta nagu põrguline".

And she would run like hell to the house

Ta jooksis nagu põrguline maja poole

and she would be getting chased by this poem,

ja luuletus ajas teda taga

ja ta pidi jõudma õigeks ajaks paberi ja pliiatsini,

and the whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper and a pencil

et ta saaks luuletuse üles korjata, kui see temast läbi mühises,

fast enough so that when it thundered through her, she could collect it

ja paberile panna.

Aga vahel ei olnud ta piisavalt nobe,

and grab it on the page.

And other times she wouldn't be fast enough,

ta jooksis, aga ei jõudnud majani,

so she'd be running and running, and she wouldn't get to the house

ja luuletus mühises temast läbi ja ta lasi selle käest

and the poem would barrel through her and she would miss it

ja luuletus jätkas oma teed üle väljade,

and she said it would continue on across the landscape,

otsides - tema sõnul - "mõnda teist luuletajat".

looking, as she put it "for another poet."

Aga vahel juhtus nii -

And then there were these times --

this is the piece I never forgot --

ja see jäi mulle eriti hästi meelde -

she said that there were moments where she would almost miss it, right?

ta rääkis, et vahel lasi ta luuletuse peaaegu käest.

So, she's running to the house and she's looking for the paper

Ta jooksis majja ja otsis tükki paberit

ja luuletus mühises temast läbi

and the poem passes through her,

and she grabs a pencil just as it's going through her,

ja ta haaras pliiatsi just sel hetkel, kui see oli teda läbimas

and then she said, it was like she would reach out with her other hand

ja siis, nagu ta ütles, sirutas ta teise käe välja

ja püüdis selle kinni.

and she would catch it.

Ta püüdis luuletuse sabapidi kinni,

She would catch the poem by its tail,

ja tõmbas selle tagurpidi tagasi oma kehasse,

and she would pull it backwards into her body

as she was transcribing on the page.

samal ajal ise paberile kirjutades.

And in these instances, the poem would come up on the page perfect and intact

Siis ilmus luuletus paberile täiusliku ja terviklikuna,

but backwards, from the last word to the first.

aga tagurpidi, viimasest sõnast esimeseni.

(Laughter)

(Naer)

So when I heard that I was like -- that's uncanny,

Kui ma seda kuulsin, mõtlesin - uskumatu,

that's exactly what my creative process is like.

ka minu loomeprotsess on täpselt samasugune.

(Laughter)

(Naer)

That's not at all what my creative process is -- I'm not the pipeline!

Ei, mu loomeprotsess pole üldse selline - ma ei ole torujuhe!

I'm a mule, and the way that I have to work

Ma olen muul ja pean töötama niimoodi,

is I have to get up at the same time every day,

et tõusen iga päev samal kellaajal üles,

higistan ja näen vaeva ja närin end suure vaevaga tööst läbi.

and sweat and labor and barrel through it really awkwardly.

Aga isegi mind, kogu minu muulatöö juures,

But even I, in my mulishness,

even I have brushed up against that thing, at times.

isegi mind on see asi mõnikord möödaminnes riivanud.

And I would imagine that a lot of you have too.

Ja ma kujutan ette, et ka paljusid teist.

You know, even I have had work or ideas come through me from a source

Isegi minul on olnud töid või ideid, mis voolavad minust läbi

that I honestly cannot identify.

ja tulenevad allikast, mida ma ausõna nimetada ei suuda.

And what is that thing?

Aga mis see asi siis on?

And how are we to relate to it in a way that will not make us lose our minds,

Ja kuidas sellesse suhtuda, et see meid hulluks ei ajaks,

but, in fact, might actually keep us sane?

vaid vastupidi, hoopis mõistuse juures hoiaks?

And for me, the best contemporary example that I have of how to do that

Parim kaasaegne näide, kuidas seda teha, on minu jaoks

is the musician Tom Waits,

muusik Tom Waits,

who I got to interview several years ago on a magazine assignment.

keda ma intervjueerisin mitu aastat tagasi ühe ajakirja jaoks.

And we were talking about this,

Me rääkisime sel teemal ja nagu isegi teate,

and you know, Tom, for most of his life, he was pretty much the embodiment

oli Tom suurema osa elust tõeliseks kehastuseks

of the tormented contemporary modern artist,

piinatud kaasaegsest loomeinimesest,

kes püüab kontrollida, juhtida ja valitseda

trying to control and manage and dominate

these sort of uncontrollable creative impulses

neid kontrollimatuid loomingulisi impulsse,

that were totally internalized.

mille ta täielikult omaks kuulutas.

But then he got older, he got calmer,

Aga vanemaks saades rahunes ta maha,

and one day he was driving down the freeway in Los Angeles,

ta rääkis, kuidas ühel päeval sõitis ta Los Angelese kiirteel

and this is when it all changed for him.

ja sealsamas muutus tema jaoks kõik.

And he's speeding along, and all of a sudden

Ta kihutab autoga ja äkki

he hears this little fragment of melody,

kuuleb väikest viisijuppi,

that comes into his head as inspiration often comes, elusive and tantalizing,

mis tuleb talle pähe, nagu inpiratsioonil tavaks, vaevutabatavalt ja õrritavalt,

and he wants it, it's gorgeous,

ta tahab seda kätte saada, see on imeilus,

and he longs for it, but he has no way to get it.

ta ihkab seda, aga tal pole võimalust seda kinni püüda.

He doesn't have a piece of paper, or a pencil, or a tape recorder.

Tal ei ole paberit ega pliiatsit,

tal ei ole diktofoni.

So he starts to feel all of that old anxiety start to rise in him

Ta tunneb, kuidas tuttav ärevus hakkab pead tõstma,

ta mõtleb: "Ma jään sellest ilma

like, "I'm going to lose this thing,

and I'll be be haunted by this song forever.

ja nüüd kummitab see laul mind igavesti.

I'm not good enough, and I can't do it."

Ma pole küllalt hea, ma ei saa hakkama."

And instead of panicking, he just stopped.

Aga paanitsemise asemel ta lihtsalt jättis asja sinnapaika.

He just stopped that whole mental process and he did something completely novel.

Ta katkestas kogu selle mõttelise protsessi

ja tegi midagi täiesti uut.

He just looked up at the sky, and he said,

Ta vaatas taevasse ja ütles:

"Excuse me, can you not see that I'm driving?"

"Vabandust, kas sa ei näe, et ma juhin autot?"

(Laughter)

(Naer)

"Do I look like I can write down a song right now?

"Kas sulle tundub, nagu ma saaksin praegu laulu kirjutada?

If you really want to exist, come back at a more opportune moment

Kui sa tõesti tahad olemas olla, tule sobivamal hetkel tagasi,

when I can take care of you.

siis, kui ma saan sinu eest hoolt kanda.

Otherwise, go bother somebody else today.

Vastasel korral mine ja tülita täna kedagi teist.

Go bother Leonard Cohen."

Mine ja tülita Leonard Cohenit."

And his whole work process changed after that.

Pärast seda muutus kogu tema tööprotsess.

Not the work, the work was still oftentimes as dark as ever.

Mitte töö ise, see oli sageli ikka sama sünge nagu alati.

But the process, and the heavy anxiety around it

Aga protsess muutus ja sellega kaasnev ängistus

was released when he took the genie, the genius out of him

andis järele, kui ta asetas vaimu, geeniuse, väljapoole iseennast,

where it was causing nothing but trouble, and released it back where it came from,

kus see põhjustas ainult vaeva, ja lasi selle tagasi sinna, kust see tuli,

mõistes, et see ei pea olema midagi enesekeskset ega piinavat.

and realized that this didn't have to be this internalized, tormented thing.

See võiks olla erakordne, imeline, veider koostöö,

It could be this peculiar, wondrous, bizarre collaboration,

kind of conversation between Tom and the strange, external thing

justkui vestlus Tomi ja selle kummalise välise asja vahel,

that was not quite Tom.

mis ei olnud päriselt Tom.

When I heard that story, it started to shift a little bit

See lugu, mida ma kuulsin, hakkas mõjutama

the way that I worked too, and this idea already saved me once.

minu enda töötegemist ja on mind juba korra päästnud.

It saved me when I was in the middle of writing "Eat, Pray, Love,"

See mõte päästis mind, kui kirjutasin raamatut "Söö, palveta armasta"

and I fell into one of those sort of pits of despair

ja vajusin meeleheite kuristikku,

that we all fall into when we're working on something and it's not coming

kuhu me kõik vajume, kui teeme midagi, aga ei tule välja

and you start to think this is going to be a disaster, the worst book ever written.

ja sa hakkad mõtlema, et see on kohutavalt halb,

et sellest tuleb kõige halvem raamat, mis iial kirjutatud.

Not just bad, but the worst book ever written.

Mitte lihtsalt halb, vaid kõige halvem, mis iial kirjutatud.

Hakkasin mõtlema, et peaksin oma projektist loobuma.

And I started to think I should just dump this project.

But then I remembered Tom talking to the open air

Siis tuli mulle meelde, kuidas Tom rääkis õhuga

and I tried it.

ja ma proovisin ka.

So I just lifted my face up from the manuscript

Ma tõstsin pilgu käsikirjalt

and I directed my comments to an empty corner of the room.

ja suunasin oma märkused tühjale toanurgale.

And I said aloud, "Listen you, thing,

Ütlesin valjult: "Kuule sina, asi,

you and I both know that if this book isn't brilliant

me mõlemad teame, et kui see raamat pole geniaalne,

that is not entirely my fault, right?

pole see ainuüksi minu süü, eks?

Because you can see that I am putting everything I have into this,

Sa ju näed, et mina annan selle jaoks endast kõik,

I don't have any more than this.

mul ei ole rohkem midagi anda.

If you want it to be better, you've got to show up and do your part of the deal.

Kui tahad, et see oleks parem, pead välja ilmuma ja täitma oma osa kokkuleppest.

Aga kui sa seda ei tee, siis - vahet pole.

But if you don't do that, you know what, the hell with it.

Mina kirjutan ikka edasi, sest see on minu töö.

I'm going to keep writing anyway because that's my job.

And I would please like the record to reflect today

Ja ma palun märkida tänasesse protokolli,

et mina ilmusin kohale, et oma osa ära teha."

that I showed up for my part of the job."

(Naer)

(Laughter)

Because --

Sest ...

(Applause)

(Aplaus)

Because in the end it's like this, OK --

Vaadake -

centuries ago in the deserts of North Africa,

sajandeid tagasi Põhja-Aafrika kõrbetes

people used to gather for these moonlight dances of sacred dance and music

kogunesid inimesed kuuvalgel pidustustele, kus esitati pühi tantse ja muusikat

that would go on for hours and hours, until dawn.

ning see kestis tunde, kuni koiduni.

They were always magnificent, because the dancers were professionals

See oli alati võrratu vaatemäng, sest tantsijad olid professionaalid

and they were terrific, right?

ja nad olid tõesti väga head.

Aga mõnikord, väga harva, juhtus midagi

But every once in a while, very rarely, something would happen,

and one of these performers would actually become transcendent.

ja mõni tantsijatest muutus tõesti ebamaiseks.

And I know you know what I'm talking about,

Te ju mõistate, millest ma räägin,

because I know you've all seen, at some point in your life,

te kõik olete kunagi elus näinud sellist esitust.

a performance like this.

It was like time would stop,

Aeg oleks justkui seisma jäänud

and the dancer would sort of step through some kind of portal

ja tantsija oleks nagu astunud läbi mingi värava

ja kuigi ta ei teinud midagi teisiti kui tuhandel eelneval ööl,

and he wasn't doing anything different

than he had ever done, 1,000 nights before,

but everything would align.

asetus nüüd kõik täiuslikult oma kohale.

And all of a sudden, he would no longer appear to be merely human.

Äkki ei tundunud ta enam tavalise inimesena.

Tema seest ja tema alt kiirgas valgust

He would be lit from within, and lit from below

and all lit up on fire with divinity.

ja see jumalik valgus langes igale poole.

And when this happened, back then,

Ja kui see juhtus, tookord ammu,

people knew it for what it was, you know, they called it by its name.

tundsid inimesed selle ära ja hüüdsid seda nimepidi.

They would put their hands together and they would start to chant,

Nad panid käed kokku ja hakkasid skandeerima:

"Allah, Allah, Allah, God, God, God."

"Allah, Allah, Allah, Jumal, Jumal, Jumal."

That's God, you know.

See ongi Jumal.

Curious historical footnote:

Üks huvitav ajalooline kõrvalmärkus -

when the Moors invaded southern Spain, they took this custom with them

kui maurid vallutasid Lõuna-Hispaania, tõid nad selle kombe endaga kaasa,

and the pronunciation changed over the centuries

aga hääldus muutus sajandite jooksul,

from "Allah, Allah, Allah," to "Olé, olé, olé,"

sellest, mis oli "Allah, Allah, Allah", sai "Olé, olé, olé",

which you still hear in bullfights and in flamenco dances.

mida võib endiselt kuulda härjavõitlustel ja flamenco-etendustel.

In Spain, when a performer has done something impossible and magic,

Hispaanias hüütakse, kui esineja on teinud midagi uskumatut ja imelist:

"Allah, olé, olé, Allah, magnificent, bravo,"

"Allah, olé, olé, Allah, võrratu, braavo!"

incomprehensible, there it is -- a glimpse of God.

Kui näeme midagi tavatut - siis ilmutabki end korraks Jumal.

Which is great, because we need that.

Mis on tore, sest meil on seda väga vaja.

But, the tricky bit comes the next morning,

Aga keeruliseks läheb asi järgmisel hommikul

for the dancer himself, when he wakes up and discovers

tantsija enda jaoks, kui ta üles ärkab ja avastab, et

that it's Tuesday at 11 a.m., and he's no longer a glimpse of God.

on kell 11 teisipäeva hommikul ja ta ei ole enam see, läbi kelle Jumal end ilmutab.

He's just an aging mortal with really bad knees,

Ta on lihtsalt üks vananev, haigete põlvedega surelik

and maybe he's never going to ascend to that height again.

ja võib-olla ei tõuse ta enam kunagi nii kõrgele.

And maybe nobody will ever chant God's name again as he spins,

Võib-olla ei hüüa keegi enam Jumala nime, kui ta end keerutab

and what is he then to do with the rest of his life?

ja mida peaks ta siis oma ülejäänud eluga peale hakkama?

This is hard.

See on karm lugu.

This is one of the most painful reconciliations to make

See on üks kõige valusamaid asju, millega tuleb leppida,

in a creative life.

kui elad loomingulist elu.

But maybe it doesn't have to be quite so full of anguish

Aga võib-olla ei pea see kõik nii ängistav olema,

if you never happened to believe, in the first place,

kui sa juba algusest peale ei uskunud,

that the most extraordinary aspects of your being came from you.

et sinu olemuse kõige erakordsemad tahud pärinevad sinust endast.

But maybe if you just believed that they were on loan to you

Võib-olla, kui sa usuksid, et need on sulle ainult laenuks antud,

from some unimaginable source for some exquisite portion of your life

mingist kujuteldamatust allikast mingiks imeliseks osaks sinu elus

to be passed along when you're finished,

ja lõpuks pead need kellelegi teisele edasi andma.

with somebody else.

And, you know, if we think about it this way, it starts to change everything.

Kui me niimoodi mõtleme, hakkab kõik muutuma.

This is how I've started to think,

Mina olen hakanud niimoodi mõtlema

and this is certainly how I've been thinking in the last few months

ja kindlasti mõtlesin niimoodi viimaste kuude jooksul,

as I've been working on the book that will soon be published,

kui ma töötasin raamatu kallal, mis varsti ilmub,

as the dangerously, frighteningly over-anticipated follow up

ohtlikult ja hirmutavalt oodatud järjena

to my freakish success.

minu jaburalt menukale eelmisele raamatule.

And what I have to sort of keep telling myself

Üks asi, mida pean jätkuvalt endale meelde tuletama,

when I get really psyched out about that is don't be afraid.

kui ma selle pärast tõeliselt närvi lähen,

on see, et ära karda.

Don't be daunted. Just do your job.

Ära lase ennast heidutada.

Lihtsalt tee oma tööd.

Continue to show up for your piece of it, whatever that might be.

Ilmu kohale, et oma osa tööst ära teha, mis see ka ei oleks.

If your job is to dance, do your dance.

Kui su töö on tantsida, siis tantsi.

If the divine, cockeyed genius assigned to your case

Kui jumalik, kõõrdsilmne geenius, kes sinu juhtumiga tegeleb,

decides to let some sort of wonderment be glimpsed, for just one moment

otsustab lasta paista millelgi imelisel, ainult hetkeks,

through your efforts, then "Olé!"

läbi sinu jõupingutuste, siis "Olé!"

Ja kui ei, siis sina tantsi ikka.

And if not, do your dance anyhow.

And "Olé!" to you, nonetheless.

Ja "Olé!" sulle kõigest hoolimata.

I believe this and I feel that we must teach it.

Mina usun seda ja tunnen, et peaksime seda õpetama.

"Olé!" teile igal juhul,

"Olé!" to you, nonetheless,

just for having the sheer human love and stubbornness

ainuüksi puhta inimliku armastuse ja kangekaelsuse eest

to keep showing up.

ikka ja alati kohale ilmuda.

Thank you.

Tänan teid.

(Applause)

(Aplaus)

Thank you.

Tänan teid.

(Applause)

(Aplaus)

June Cohen: Olé!

Olé

(Applause)

(Aplaus)