Your elusive creative genius | Elizabeth Gilbert

Translator: Lucia Zitnanska Reviewer: Miriam Matejova

I am a writer.

Som spisovateľka.

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

Písanie kníh je mojou profesiou, ale samozrejme, je to aj oveľa viac.

It is also my great lifelong love and fascination.

Je to aj moja celoživotná láska a fascinácia.

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

A neočakávam, že sa to niekedy zmení.

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

Popri tom však musím povedať, že sa mi nedávno v živote aj v kariére

in my life and in my career,

stalo niečo zvláštne,

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

čo spôsobilo, že som musela prehodnotiť svoj vzťah k tejto práci.

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

Tou zvláštnou vecou je, že som nedávno napísala knihu,

this memoir called "Eat, Pray, Love"

memoáre s názvom "Jedz, modli sa a miluj,"©

which, decidedly unlike any of my previous books,

ktorá sa na rozdiel od mojich predchádzajúcich kníh,

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

z nejakého dôvodu rozšírila po svete a stala sa z nej obrovská

mega-sensation, international bestseller thing.

mega senzácia a medzinárodný bestseller.

The result of which is that everywhere I go now,

Výsledkom čoho je, že kamkoľvek teraz prídem,

people treat me like I'm doomed.

ľudia sa ku mne správajú, akoby som bola odsúdená na záhubu.

Seriously -- doomed, doomed!

Úplne vážne -- prekliata, prekliata!

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

Napríklad za mnou chodia s obavami, a vravia:

"Nebojíš sa -- nebojíš sa, že už nikdy nič lepšie nenapíšeš?

"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

Nebojíš sa, že budeš celý život pokračovať v písaní,

and you're never again going to create a book

a už nikdy nenapíšeš knihu,

that anybody in the world cares about at all,

o ktorú by niekto na svete stál,

ever again?"

už nikdy?"

So that's reassuring, you know.

Veľmi povzbudzujúce, však.

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

Bolo by to horšie, ale našťastie si pamätám,

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

že pred viac ako 20 rokmi, keď som ako teenagerka začala ľuďom vravieť,

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

že chcem byť spisovateľkou,

stretla som sa s tou istou reakciou, založenou na strachu.

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

Ľudia sa ma pýtali: "Nebojíš sa, že nikdy nebudeš úspešná?

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?

Nebojíš sa, že ťa poníženie z odmietnutia zabije?

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

Nebojíš sa, že budeš toto remeslo cibriť celý život

a nič z toho nikdy nebude

and nothing's ever going to come of it

a umrieš na kope útržkov nesplnených snov

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

a ústa budeš mať zhorknuté popolom neúspechu?"

with your mouth filled with bitter ash of failure?"

(Smiech)

(Laughter)

Like that, you know.

Niečo v tom zmysle.

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

Moja odpoveď -- krátka odpoveď na všetky tieto otázky je: "Áno".

Yes, I'm afraid of all those things.

Áno, bojím sa všetkých tých vecí.

And I always have been.

Vždy som sa ich bála.

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

Okrem toho sa bojím ešte aj mnohých iných vecí,

that people can't even guess at,

o ktorých ľudia vôbec netušia.

like seaweed and other things that are scary.

Napríklad morských rias a iných strašidelností.

But, when it comes to writing,

Ale čo sa týka písania...

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

už nejakú dobu premýšľam a čudujem sa prečo to tak je?

is why?

Rozumiete, je to racionálne?

You know, is it rational?

Má to logiku, očakávať od ľudí,

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.

aby sa báli práce, o ktorej majú pocit, že je zmyslom ich existencie na tejto Zemi.

And what is it specifically about creative ventures

A čo je dôvodom, že hlavne kreatívne povolania

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

v nás vzbudzujú vážne obavy o naše psychické zdravie,

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

a to oveľa viac ako iné zamestnania, rozumiete mi?

Like my dad, for example, was a chemical engineer

Napríklad môj otec bol chemickým inžinierom,

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

a nepamätám si, že by sa ho za 40 rokov chemického inžinierstva

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

niekto spýtal, či sa bojí byť chemickým inžinierom.

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

Nepýtali sa -- John ako sa pasuješ s tou chemickou krízou?

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

Nič také sa nikdy nespomenulo, viete?

But to be fair, chemical engineers as a group

Ale aby som bola férová, chemickí inžinieri si ako skupina

haven't really earned a reputation over the centuries

po mnohé storočia nevytvorili reputáciu

for being alcoholic manic-depressives.

manicko depresívnych alkoholikov.

(Laughter)

(Smiech)

We writers, we kind of do have that reputation,

Zato my spisovatelia takú reputáciu máme.

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

Vlastne nielen spisovatelia, ale zdá sa, že o tvorivých ľuďoch každého žánru

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

si často myslíme, že sú neuveriteľne psychicky nevyrovnaní.

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

Stačí, keď si pozriete ten ponurý zoznam úmrtí

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

veľkolepých kreatívnych myslí len 20-teho storočia,

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

ktorí zomreli mladí a často vlastnou rukou.

And even the ones who didn't literally commit suicide

A zdá sa, že aj tí, ktorí nespáchali samovraždu,

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

sa kvôli svojmu daru cítili akoby týraní.

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

Norman Mailer, tesne pred smrťou, v poslednom rozhovore povedal:

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

"Každá z mojich kníh ma o trochu viac zabila."

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

Je to zvláštny výrok o vlastnom celoživotnom diele, nemyslíte?

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

Ale ak sa takto niekto vyjadruje, vôbec nás to neprekvapuje,

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

pretože sme podobné veci počuli už toľkokrát

and somehow we've completely internalized and accepted collectively

Akoby sme sa s nimi úplne stotožnili a kolektívne prijali

this notion that creativity and suffering are somehow inherently linked

názor, že kreativita a utrpenie sú oddávna prepojené,

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

a že umenie bude v konečnom dôsledku vždy viesť k trápeniu.

And the question that I want to ask everybody here today

A otázka, ktorú sa vás dnes chcem spýtať

is are you guys all cool with that idea?

je: vyhovuje vám táto myšlienka?

Are you comfortable with that?

Ste s ňou spokojní --

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

pretože stačí, že získate trochu nadhľad a, veď viete --

I'm not at all comfortable with that assumption.

mne tento predpoklad absolútne nevyhovuje.

I think it's odious.

Myslím, že je odporný.

And I also think it's dangerous,

A myslím, že aj nebezpečný,

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

a nechcem, aby sme ho preniesli aj do ďalšieho storočia.

Myslím, že by bolo lepšie, ak by sme tvorivých ľudí podporovali k životu.

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 --

A určite viem, že v mojom prípade -- v mojej situácii --

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

by bolo veľmi nebezpečné, keby som vykročila temným chodníčkom

of assumption,

tohto predpokladu, hlavne keď vezmete do úvahy

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

súčasný stav mojej kariéry.

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

Čo je -- veď viete, pozrite sa,

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

som ešte mladá, mám okolo 40.

Ešte mám pred sebou ďalšie štyri desaťročia práce.

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

A je viac než pravdepodobné, že všetko čo od teraz napíšem

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

bude celý svet súdiť ako niečo, čo prišlo až po

the freakish success of my last book, right?

šialenom úspechu mojej poslednej knihy, nie?

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

Mala by som to povedať na rovinu, veď sme tu vlastne skoro priatelia --

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

je viac ako pravdepodobné, že svoj najväčší úspech mám už za sebou.

So Jesus, what a thought!

Och, Kriste, hrozná myšlienka!

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

Viete, myšlienky takého druhu môžu doviesť človeka k tomu,

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

že začne o deviatej ráno piť džin,

and I don't want to go there.

a k tomu sa ja dopracovať nechcem.

(Laughter)

(Smiech)

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

Radšej by som robila prácu, ktorú milujem.

A tak sa naskytá otázka, ako?

And so, the question becomes, how?

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

A mne sa po mnohých zamysleniach zdá,

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

že aby som mohla ďalej písať,

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

musím si vytvoriť nejaký ochranný psychologický mechanizmus, však?

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

Nejako si musím vytvoriť bezpečnú vzdialenosť

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

medzi sebou, keď píšem, a mojim veľmi prirodzeným strachom

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

z toho, aké budú reakcie na to, čo od teraz napíšem.

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

A keď som počas minulého roku hľadala spôsob, ako to urobiť,

for models for how to do that,

I've been sort of looking across time,

skúmala som minulosť,

and I've been trying to find other societies

a snažila som sa nájsť iné spoločnosti,

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

aby som zistila, či náhodou nemali lepšie a rozumnejšie nápady,

about how to help creative people

ako pomôcť tvorivým ľuďom zvládať

sort of manage the inherent emotional risks of creativity.

základné riziká tvorivosti.

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

Tento výskum ma zaviedol do starovekého Grécka a Ríma.

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

Tak mi prosím venujte pozornosť, vráti sa to späť.

But, ancient Greece and ancient Rome --

Ale staroveké Grécko a Rím --

people did not happen to believe that creativity

vtedy ľudia neverili, že tvorivosť

came from human beings back then, OK?

vyviera z ľudských bytostí.

People believed that creativity was this divine attendant spirit

Ľudia verili, že tvorivosť je nadpozemský duch-spoločník,

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

ktorý k ľudským bytostiam prichádza z nejakého vzdialeného a nepoznaného miesta,

for distant and unknowable reasons.

zo vzdialených a nepoznaných dôvodov.

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

Gréci boli známi tým, že týchto nadpozemských duchov tvorivosti nazývali "démonmi."

Socrates, famously, believed that he had a daemon

Vie sa, že Socrates veril, že má démona,

who spoke wisdom to him from afar.

ktorý mu z diaľky vravel múdrosti.

The Romans had the same idea,

Rimania mali rovnaký názor,

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

ale týchto nadpozemských tvorivých duchov nazývali géniami.

Which is great, because the Romans did not actually think

Čo je skvelé, lebo Rimania si nemysleli,

that a genius was a particularly clever individual.

že génius je nejaká obzvlášť múdra osoba.

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

Verili, že génius je nejaká čarovná božská bytosť,

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

ktorá doslovne žila medzi stenami

umeleckých ateliérov. Niečo ako domový škriatok Dobby.

kind of like Dobby the house elf,

and who would come out

A mohla hocikedy vyjsť von a neviditeľnou rukou pomáhať umelcovi pri práci

and sort of invisibly assist the artist with their work

a takto tvarovať výsledok týchto prác.®

and would shape the outcome of that work.

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

Brilantné -- to je ono, tá vzdialenosť o ktorej rozprávam --

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

psychologický mechanizmus, ktorý vás ochráni pred výsledkom vašej práce.

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

A všetci vedeli, že takto to fungovalo.

So the ancient artist was protected from certain things,

Takže starovekí umelci boli pred istými vecami chránení,

like, for example, too much narcissism, right?

napríklad pred prílišným narcizmom, však?

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

Ak bola vaša práca brilantná, nemohli ste brať všetku chválu len na seba.

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

Všetci vedeli, že máte svojho nadpozemského génia, ktorý vám pomáhal.

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

Ak vaše práca nevypálila dobre, nebola to len vaša vina, však?

Everyone knew your genius was kind of lame.

Všetci vedeli, že váš génius bol trochu trápny.

(Laughter)

A takto ľudia na západe o tvorivosti uvažovali naozaj dlhú dobu.

And this is how people thought about creativity in the West

for a really long time.

A potom prišla renesancia, a všetko sa zmenilo.

And then the Renaissance came and everything changed,

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

Prišli sme s veľkou myšlienkou, ktorá bola:

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

dajme do stredu vesmíru jednotlivca,

umiestnime ho nad všetkých bohov a záhady, a už nám nezostalo miesto

above all gods and mysteries,

and there's no more room for mystical creatures

na žiadne mystické bytosti, ktoré načúvajú radám z hora.

who take dictation from the divine.

And it's the beginning of rational humanism,

A to bol začiatok racionálneho humanizmu,

and people started to believe that creativity

a ľudia začali veriť, že tvorivosť

prichádza iba z vnútra jednotlivca.

came completely from the self of the individual.

And for the first time in history,

A prvýkrát v histórií

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

ste mohli počuť, ako ľudia vravia, že tento alebo onen umelec je géniom,

rather than having a genius.

nie, že má svojho génia.

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

A musím vám povedať, myslím, že to bola veľká chyba.

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

Viete, myslím, že keď niekomu, keď jednotlivcovi dovolíme

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

uveriť, že on, alebo ona je prostriedkom,

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

zdrojom a podstatou a prameňom

všetkých božských, tvorivých, nepoznaných, nekonečných tajomstiev,

of all divine, creative, unknowable, eternal mystery

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

je na jednu krehkú ľudskú psychiku príliš veľa zodpovednosti.

It's like asking somebody to swallow the sun.

Je to ako keby ste od niekoho chceli, nech prehltne slnko.

It just completely warps and distorts egos,

Úplne to ľuďom kriví a deformuje egá,

and it creates all these unmanageable expectations about performance.

a vznikajú tak nezvládnuteľné očakávania o výkonoch.

And I think the pressure of that

A myslím, že práve tento tlak

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

posledných 500 rokov zabíjal našich umelcov.

And, if this is true,

A ak je to pravda,

and I think it is true,

a ja si myslím, že to pravda je,

the question becomes, what now?

tak sa rysuje otázka, čo teraz?

Can we do this differently?

Môžeme to riešiť inak?

Maybe go back to some more ancient understanding

Možno by sme sa mali vrátiť k starovekému chápaniu

about the relationship between humans and the creative mystery.

vzťahu medzi ľuďmi a záhadou tvorivosti.

Maybe not.

A možno nie.

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

Možno nemôžeme zmazať 500 rokov racionálneho humanistického uvažovania

in one 18 minute speech.

jedným 18 minútovým príhovorom.

And there's probably people in this audience

A v hľadisku sa asi nájdu ľudia,

who would raise really legitimate scientific suspicions

ktorí by prišli s naozaj legitímnymi vedeckými pochybnosťami

about the notion of, basically, fairies

ohľadne týchto predstáv o, vlastne o vílach,

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

ktoré prenasledujú ľudí, a ich projekty polievajú čarovným odvarom, a tak.

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

Asi sa mi nepodarí presvedčiť vás všetkých, aby ste so mnou súhlasili.

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

Ale otázka, ktorú tu chcem načrtnúť znie --

you know, why not?

a vlastne prečo nie?

Why not think about it this way?

Prečo by sme o tom takto nerozmýšľali?

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

Veď to dáva rovnaký zmysel ako všetky ostatné

in terms of explaining the utter maddening capriciousness

pokusy o vysvetlenie tej vyslovene šialenej vrtkavosti

of the creative process.

tvorivého procesu.

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

Procesu, a to je jasné každému, kto sa kedy snažili niečo vytvoriť --

čím chcem povedať, vlastne všetkým, čo tu dnes sedia --

which is to say basically everyone here ---

knows does not always behave rationally.

že tento proces nie je vždy práve racionálny.

And, in fact, can sometimes feel downright paranormal.

A je pravda, že niekedy z toho môžete mať vyslovene paranormálny pocit.

I had this encounter recently

Nedávno som zažila jednu vec, stretla som skvelú americkú poetku Ruth Stoneovú,

where I met the extraordinary American poet Ruth Stone,

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

ktorá má okolo 90, ale poetkou bola celý život,

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

a povedala mi, že keď vyrastala vo vidieckej Virginií,

she would be out working in the fields,

kde pracovala na poliach,

and she said she would feel and hear a poem

niekedy cítila a počula,

coming at her from over the landscape.

ako k nej z krajiny prichádza báseň.

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

A povedala, že to bolo ako ohromný vlak vzduchu,

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

ktorý sa na ňu s hrmotom rútil cez krajinu.

A cítila, že prichádza, pretože sa jej triasla zem pod nohami.

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,

Vtedy vedela, že je iba jedna vec, ktorú musí urobiť,

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

a to, poviem to jej slovami, "utekať ako o život."

And she would run like hell to the house

A ako o život utekala domov,

and she would be getting chased by this poem,

a báseň ju pritom prenasledovala,

a išlo o to, že sa musela dosť rýchlo dostať k papieru a ceruzke,

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

aby mohla zachytiť báseň v momente, keď cez ňu prehrmí,

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

a zapísať ju na papier.

Niekedy nebola dosť rýchla.

and grab it on the page.

And other times she wouldn't be fast enough,

Vtedy utekala a utekala, a nestihla sa dostať domov,

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

a báseň ňou prehrmela a ona ju premeškala.

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

Povedala, že potom báseň letela krajinou ďalej,

and she said it would continue on across the landscape,

hľadajúc "iného básnika."

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

A inokedy --

And then there were these times --

this is the piece I never forgot --

na toto nikdy nezabudnem --

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

povedala, že niekedy to takmer nestihla.

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

Tak bežala domov a hľadala papier,

a báseň ňou prehrmela,

and the poem passes through her,

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

a práve vtedy, ako cez ňu letela, si zobrala ceruzku,

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

a načiahla sa druhou rukou,

a chytila ju.

and she would catch it.

Chytila báseň za chvost,

She would catch the poem by its tail,

a vtiahla si ju pospiatky do tela,

and she would pull it backwards into her body

as she was transcribing on the page.

kým ju prepisovala na papier.

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

A v týchto prípadoch prepísala báseň na papier dokonalú a v celku,

but backwards, from the last word to the first.

ale opačne, od posledného slova k prvému.

(Laughter)

(Smiech)

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

Keď som to počula, myslela som si -- to je zvláštne,

that's exactly what my creative process is like.

presne tak vyzerá aj môj tvorivý proces.

(Laughter)

(Smiech)

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

Môj tvorivý proces taký vôbec nie je -- nie som potrubie!

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

Ja som mulica, spôsob akým musím pracovať je,

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

že každý deň vstanem v rovnaký čas,

a nešikovne driem a potím sa a makám.

and sweat and labor and barrel through it really awkwardly.

Ale aj ja pri tejto svojej drine,

But even I, in my mulishness,

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

aj ja som sa párkrát s niečím takým stretla.

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

A predstavujem si, že aj mnohí z vás.

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

Viete, aj mne sa stalo, že ku mne prišla inšpirácia z nejakého zdroja,

that I honestly cannot identify.

ktorý som naozaj nevedela identifikovať.

And what is that thing?

A čo to je za vec?

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

A ako sa k nej máme postaviť tak, aby sme sa pritom nezbláznili,

but, in fact, might actually keep us sane?

ale naopak, aby nám pomohla udržať si duševné zdravie?

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

A pre mňa je najlepší súčasný príklad, ako sa s tým popasovať

is the musician Tom Waits,

hudobník Tom Waits,

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

s ktorým som pred pár rokmi robila rozhovor pre jeden časopis.

And we were talking about this,

A o niečom takomto sme sa rozprávali.

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

A viete, Tom bol takmer celý život stelesnením

of the tormented contemporary modern artist,

trpiaceho súčasného moderného umelca,

ktorý sa snaží riadiť a zvládať a ovládať

trying to control and manage and dominate

these sort of uncontrollable creative impulses

tieto nekontrolovateľné tvorivé impulzy,

that were totally internalized.

s ktorými bol stotožnený.

But then he got older, he got calmer,

Ale potom zostarel a spokojnel,

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

a vravel mi, ako jedného dňa šoféroval po diaľnici v Los Angeles,

and this is when it all changed for him.

a vtedy sa to pre neho celé zmenilo.

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

Uháňal po ceste a zrazu

he hears this little fragment of melody,

počul krátky fragment melódie,

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

ktorá sa mu vlúdila do hlavy, a tak ako to s inšpiráciou často býva, bola prchavá a dráždivá,

and he wants it, it's gorgeous,

a on ju chce, predstavte si, veď je nádherná,

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

a túži po nej, ale nemá sa jej ako zmocniť.

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

Nemá ani kúsok papiera, nemá ceruzku,

nemá diktafón.

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

A zrazu cíti, ako v ňom začína vrieť všetka tá stará úzkosť,

myslí si, "Prídem o ňu,

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

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

a potom ma tá pieseň bude celý život prenasledovať.

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

Nie som dosť dobrý, nedokážem to."

And instead of panicking, he just stopped.

A namiesto toho, aby ho zachvátila panika, jednoducho prestal.

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

Zastavil celý ten duševný proces

a urobil niečo celkom neobvyklé.

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

Pozrel sa na nebo a povedal:

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

"Prepáč, nevidíš, že šoférujem?"

(Laughter)

(Smiech)

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

"Vyzerám, že si teraz dokážem zapísať pieseň?

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

Ak naozaj chceš existovať, vráť sa, keď bude vhodnejší čas,

when I can take care of you.

niekedy, keď sa o teba budem môcť postarať.

Otherwise, go bother somebody else today.

Inak choď otravovať niekoho iného.

Go bother Leonard Cohen."

Choď za Leonardom Cohenom."

And his whole work process changed after that.

A po tomto zážitku sa zmenil celý systém jeho práce.

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

Nie práca sama o sebe, tá je stále rovnako temná.

But the process, and the heavy anxiety around it

Ale proces tvorby a tá ťaživá úzkosť, ktorá ju obkolesovala

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

sa uvoľnila, keď zo seba vytrhol svojho džina-génia --

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

odtiaľ, kde robil iba problémy -- a vrátil ho tam odkiaľ prišiel,

a uvedomil si, že toto predsa nemusí byť čosi vnútorné a mučivé.

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

Mohla by to byť taká zvláštna, podivuhodná, bizarná spolupráca,

It could be this peculiar, wondrous, bizarre collaboration,

kind of conversation between Tom and the strange, external thing

niečo ako konverzácia medzi Tomom a tou divnou, externou vecou,

that was not quite Tom.

ktorá nie je jeho plnou súčasťou.

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

Keď som počula tento príbeh, začal sa trochu meniť

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

aj spôsob, akým som pracovala ja. A už ma to raz zachránilo.

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

Táto myšlienka ma zachránila, keď som práve písala "Jedz, modli sa a miluj,"©

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

a spadla som do tých osídiel zúfalstva,

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

do ktorých sa všetci dostávame, keď na niečom pracujeme a nedarí sa nám,

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

a začnete si myslieť, že z toho bude katastrofa,

že to bude najhoršia kniha na svete.

Not just bad, but the worst book ever written.

Nie zlá, ale najhoršia kniha na svete.

A začala som si myslieť, že by som mala celý ten projekt zahodiť.

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

But then I remembered Tom talking to the open air

Ale potom som si spomenula, ako sa Tom rozprával s oblohou,

and I tried it.

a skúsila som to.

So I just lifted my face up from the manuscript

Odvrátila som tvár od rukopisu,

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

a svoje poznámky som nasmerovala do prázdneho kúta izby.

And I said aloud, "Listen you, thing,

A nahlas som povedala, "Počúvaj, ty vec,

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

aj ja aj ty vieme, že ak táto kniha nebude brilantná,

that is not entirely my fault, right?

nebude to iba moja chyba, správne?

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

Pretože vidíš, že ja do nej vkladám všetko čo mám,

I don't have any more than this.

viac toho už nemám.

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

Takže ak chceš, aby bola lepšia, tak by si sa mala objaviť a spraviť si svoju prácu.

Dobre. Ale ak to neurobíš, tak vieš čo, do čerta s tým.

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

Ja budem aj tak ďalej písať, pretože to je moja práca.

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

And I would please like the record to reflect today

A chcela by som, aby bolo jasné,

že ja som dnes prišla a svoju prácu si odviedla."

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

(Smiech)

(Laughter)

Because --

Pretože --

(Applause)

(Potlesk)

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

v konečnom dôsledku je to tak, dobre --

centuries ago in the deserts of North Africa,

pred mnohými storočiami v púšťach severnej Afriky

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

sa ľudia za mesačného svitu zvykli zhromažďovať na posvätné tance,

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

ktoré vtedy trvali hodiny a hodiny, až do úsvitu.

They were always magnificent, because the dancers were professionals

A bolo to vždy veľkolepé, pretože tanečníci boli profesionáli,

and they were terrific, right?

a boli úžasní, pravda?

Ale vždy raz za čas, veľmi zriedka, sa niečo stalo,

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

and one of these performers would actually become transcendent.

a jeden z účinkujúcich sa stal akoby nadprirodzeným.

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

A viem, že viete o čom rozprávam,

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

pretože viem, že všetci ste niekedy v živote takéto predstavenie videli.

a performance like this.

It was like time would stop,

Bolo to, akoby sa zastavil čas,

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

a tanečník akoby prekročil nejaký portál,

a nerobil nič iné ako už 1000 nocí predtým,

and he wasn't doing anything different

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

but everything would align.

ale zrazu sa všetko usmernilo.

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

A znenazdajky už nebol iba ľudskou bytosťou.

Bol ožiarený zvnútra, a zospodu,

He would be lit from within, and lit from below

and all lit up on fire with divinity.

a celý horel nadpozemskosťou.

And when this happened, back then,

A keď sa to vtedy stalo,

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

ľudia to spoznali, a volali to po mene.

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

Zopli ruky a začali skandovať,

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

"Alah, Alah, Alah, boh, boh, boh."

That's God, you know.

To je boh, viete.

Curious historical footnote:

Zvláštna historická vsuvka --

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

keď Mauri vpadli do južného Španielska, tento zvyk si doniesli zo sebou,

and the pronunciation changed over the centuries

a za tie storočia sa zmenila výslovnosť

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

z "Alah, Alah, Alah," na "Ole, ole, ole,"

which you still hear in bullfights and in flamenco dances.

a to dnes stále počuť pri býčích zápasoch a flamenku.

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

V Španielsku, ak sa účinkujúcemu podarí niečo neskutočné a čarovné,

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

"Alah, ole, ole, Alah, veľkolepé, bravo,"

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

nepochopiteľné, ale je to tak -- záblesk boha.

Which is great, because we need that.

A je to skvelé, pretože to potrebujeme.

But, the tricky bit comes the next morning,

Ale ťažkosti prídu na druhý deň ráno,

for the dancer himself, when he wakes up and discovers

hlavne pre tanečníka, keď sa zobudí

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

a zistí, že je utorok, 11 hodín ráno, a už nie je zábleskom boha.

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

Už je len starnúcim smrteľníkom so zlými kolenami,

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

a už možno nikdy nedosiahne také výšky.

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

A už možno nikdy nikto nebude pri jeho tanci skandovať božie meno,

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

a čo má potom urobiť zo zbytkom svojho života?

This is hard.

Je to ťažké.

This is one of the most painful reconciliations to make

Je to jedna z najťažších vecí, s ktorými sa pri tvorivom živote,

in a creative life.

treba zmieriť.

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

Ale možno to nemusí byť až také mučivé,

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

ak by ste v prvom rade nikdy neverili,

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

že tie najvýnimočnejšie počiny vášho bytia nevyšli z vás.

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

Ale keby ste možno verili, že ste ich mali požičané

from some unimaginable source for some exquisite portion of your life

z nejakého nepredstaviteľného zdroja iba na prekrásnu časť vášho života,

to be passed along when you're finished,

a keď s nimi skončíte, tak ich treba posunúť ďalej, niekomu inému.

with somebody else.

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

A viete, ak sa nad tým zamyslíme takto, všetko sa začne meniť.

This is how I've started to think,

Takto som začala rozmýšľať,

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

a určite už takto rozmýšľam posledných pár mesiacov,

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

ako pracujem na knihe, ktorá čoskoro vyjde

as the dangerously, frighteningly over-anticipated follow up

ako nebezpečne, desivo prehnane očakávané pokračovanie

to my freakish success.

môjho šialeného úspechu.

And what I have to sort of keep telling myself

A ja si musím stále opakovať,

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

hlavne, keď som z toho naozaj nervózna,

že sa nemám báť.

Don't be daunted. Just do your job.

Nenechať sa zastrašiť.

Len si spraviť svoju prácu.

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

Naďalej si vždy odviesť tú svoju časť, nech to je čokoľvek.

If your job is to dance, do your dance.

Ak je vašou prácou tanec, tak tancujte.

If the divine, cockeyed genius assigned to your case

Ak sa ten nadpozemský, škuľavý génius, ktorý vám bol pridelený

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

rozhodne, že čo len na sekundu cez vašu snahu

through your efforts, then "Olé!"

nechá zažiariť štipku úžasu, tak "Ole!"

A ak nie, tak pokračujte vo vašom tanci.

And if not, do your dance anyhow.

And "Olé!" to you, nonetheless.

A aj tak "Ole!"

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

V toto verím a myslím, že to musíme učiť.

A aj tak "Ole!",

"Olé!" to you, nonetheless,

just for having the sheer human love and stubbornness

za to, že máte v sebe číru ľudskú lásku a tvrdohlavosť,

to keep showing up.

a vždy si odvediete svoju prácu.

Thank you.

Ďakujem.

(Applause)

(Potlesk)

Thank you.

Ďakujem.

(Applause)

(Potlesk)

June Cohen: Olé!

June Cohen: Ole!

(Applause)

(Potlesk)