Your elusive creative genius | Elizabeth Gilbert

Translator: Nafissa Yakubova Reviewer: Farrukh Yakubov

I am a writer.

Men yozuvchiman.

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

Kitob yozish mening kasbim, lekin albatta faqat bugina emas.

It is also my great lifelong love and fascination.

Bu yana mening butun umri bo'yi sevib va ajablanib qiladigan ishimdir.

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

va men bu hech qachon o'zgaradi deb o'ylamayman.

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

Lekin, yaqinda juda o'zgacha narsa sodir bo'ldi

in my life and in my career,

mening hayotimda va kasbimda,

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

va bu mening ishimga bo'lgan munosabatimni qayta ko'rib chiqishga undadi

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

Bu o'zgacha hodisa men yaqinda bir kitob yozdim,

this memoir called "Eat, Pray, Love"

memuar asar "Eat, Pray, Love" ( Yeng, seving, va ibodat qiling) degan

which, decidedly unlike any of my previous books,

bu kitob mening oldingi kitoblarimga o'xshamay

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

buun dunyoga tarqalib ketdi, nima uchundir

mega-sensation, international bestseller thing.

ulkan olamshumul, xalqaro eng yaxshi sotilgan kitobga aylandi.

The result of which is that everywhere I go now,

Buning natijasida qayerga borsam ham

people treat me like I'm doomed.

odamlar meni bechoraga qaraganday qaraydi.

Seriously -- doomed, doomed!

Haqiqatdan ham- bechoraga qaragandek qayaraydi!

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

Yani, ular menga kelib xavotirlanib aytishadi,

"Siz endi yozgan kitoblaringing bu kitobingizdan ko'ra mashhur bo'lolmaydi deb qo'rqmaysizmi?

"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

Butun umr davomida yozishdan qo'rmaysizmi?

and you're never again going to create a book

va hech qachon yana bunday asar yozolmaslikdan

that anybody in the world cares about at all,

va hech kim uni o'qimasligidan

ever again?"

qo'rqmaysizmi?"

So that's reassuring, you know.

Ko'rib turganingizdek ana shunaqa.

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

lekin bundan ham yomon bo'lish mumkin edi, biroq esimda borki

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

20 yilcha avval, o'spririn paytimda men odamlarga

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

yozuvchi bo'laman deb aytishni boshladim.

o'sha paytda ham menga shunday xavotir bilan e'tibor berishgandi.

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

va odamlar so'rashardi: "Sen hech qachon muvaffaqiyatga erisholmaslikdan qo'rmaysanmi?

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?

seni yerga urishsa va qabul qilishmasa, bu seni nobud qilmaydimi?

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

Butun umr bir asar ustida ishalab hech natijaga

hech narsaga erisholmaslikdan qo'rqmaysanmi?

and nothing's ever going to come of it

va sen armonlaring bilan o'lib ketishdan qo'rqmaysanmi

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

va faqat bilgan mazang faqat yengilish mazasi bo'lsachi?"

with your mouth filled with bitter ash of failure?"

(Kulgi)

(Laughter)

Like that, you know.

ana shunaqa.

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

Savolalrning hammasiga qisqacha javobim- "ha".

Yes, I'm afraid of all those things.

Ha, men bu narsalardan qo'rqaman.

And I always have been.

Har doim ham qo'rqanman.

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

Va bulardan tashqari men yana ko'p narsalardan qo'rqaman.

that people can't even guess at,

bularni odamlar hayoliga ham keltirmaydi.

like seaweed and other things that are scary.

Masalan suvo'ti va boshqa qo'rqinchli narsalardan qo'rqaman.

But, when it comes to writing,

Lekin, yozishga kelganda

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

Men yaqin oradan beri buning sababini o'ylab kelayapman.

is why?

Bu aqlga sig'adigan narsami o'zi?

You know, is it rational?

Mantiqan, hammadan shuni kutishadimi-

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.

yani Yer yuzida qilish kerak bo'lgan ishdan qo'rqishini kutadimi?

And what is it specifically about creative ventures

Bilasizmi, ijodkorlar

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

ruhiy sog'lomligi haqida biz qayg'uramiz.

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

lekin buni boshqa ish va sohalarda uncha uchratmaysiz, bilasizmi?

Like my dad, for example, was a chemical engineer

Masalan, otam, Kimyogar- Muhandis.

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

Va 40 yillik kimyoviy muhandislik davomida bir marta ham

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

kimdir undan Kimyogar muhandis bo'lishdan qo'rqmaysanmi deb so'raganini bilmayman.

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

shu muhandis- kimyogarlik Johnni bo'gayapti deyishmaydi

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

bunday deyishmaydi, bilasizmi?

But to be fair, chemical engineers as a group

lekin ochig'ini aytganda, kimyoviy muhandislarni hammasini olganda

haven't really earned a reputation over the centuries

ular asrlar davomida

for being alcoholic manic-depressives.

alkogolik, yoki ruhan tushkunllikka tushgan deb tanilmagan.

(Laughter)

(Kulgi)

We writers, we kind of do have that reputation,

Biz yozuvchilar esa shunday deb tanilganmiz,

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

nafaqat yozuvchilar, balki har hil sohadagi ijodkor odamlar,

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

bularnign hammasiz ruhiy va hissiy muvozanatsiz deb tanilgan.

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

Bunga amin bo'lish uchun bu qorong'i o'limlar soniga qarang

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

20- asrning o'zidagina, juda ham ijodkor odamlar

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

juda yosh, va ko'pincha o'z qo'llarida vafot etadilar, bilasizmi?

And even the ones who didn't literally commit suicide

Agar ular o'zlariga suiqasd qilmasalar-da,

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

o'z iste'dodlaridan yemirilib borayotganday tuyuladi.

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

Norman Mailer, eng oxirgi suhbatida shundya deydi:

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

"Mening har bir kitobim meni birma-bir nobud qilib bordi"

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

Butun umr qilgan ishingizga bunday qarash oddiy narsa emas.

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

Lekin kimdir shundya desa biz parvo ham qilmaymiz

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

chunki biz buni anchadan beri eshtib kelamiz

and somehow we've completely internalized and accepted collectively

va biz hammamiz qandaydir qilib buni o'zlashtiganmiz va qabul qilganmiz

this notion that creativity and suffering are somehow inherently linked

ijodkorlik va dard chekish huddi tug'ma bo'lib bog'langandek

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

va bu ijodkorlik, oxirida, qayg'urishga olib keladi.

And the question that I want to ask everybody here today

Va men bugun sizdan shuni so'rayman

is are you guys all cool with that idea?

siz bu fikrga qo'shilasizmi?

Are you comfortable with that?

shu haqiqat sizga qulaymi-

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

chunki siz qanchalik bunga yaqin yondashmang-

I'm not at all comfortable with that assumption.

men bu firk bilan umuman qulaylik bilan qarab turolmayman.

I think it's odious.

Bu juda ham qorong'i narsa.

And I also think it's dangerous,

Va bu juda xavflidir.

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

Va men bunig kelasi asrda ham davom etishini xohlamayman.

Agar biz ijodkorlarimizni yashashga chorlasak yaxshi bo'lardi.

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 --

Men shunga aminmanki, mening holatimda-

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

bu qorong'ilikka cho'kib ketish juda xavfli bo'lgan bo'lardi

of assumption,

ayniqsa ijodkorlik

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

bu hozir mening kasbim va ishim.

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

yani, ko'rib turganingizdek

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

men hali yoshman, atigi 40 yoshdaman.

Balkim menga yana 40 yil ishlahsga to'g'ri kelar.

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

Va hozirdan boshlab nimaiki yozsam

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

dunyo bo'ylab meni ishimni eng oxirgi muvaffaqiyatli

the freakish success of my last book, right?

asarimga solishtirishadi, shundaymasmi?

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

Shu ochiq aytishim kerakki

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

menimcha, eng ulkan muvaffaqiyatim ortda qoldi.

So Jesus, what a thought!

O, Xudo, bu qanday fikr!

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

Bunday firklar odamni

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

ertalabdan djin ichimligni ishishga chorlaydi.

and I don't want to go there.

va men bu yo'lga kirishni xohlamayman.

(Laughter)

(Kulgi)

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

men o'zim sevgan ishni qilishda davom etgim bor.

va shunday savol tug'iladi, qanday qilib?

And so, the question becomes, how?

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

menimncha, ko'p o'ylashlar natijasida

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

yozishni davom ettirish uchun, men hozirdan

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

o'zimga ruhiy yo'nalish yaratishim kerak, to'g'rimi?

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

Shunday xavfsiz masofa topishim kerak

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

yani, men va men yozgan narsalar orasida, va mening qayg'urishim o'rtasida

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

mening o'z asarlarimga munosabatim o'rtasida.

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

O'tgan yildan beri namuna bo'ladigan qolip va yo'nalishlar izlab kelaman

for models for how to do that,

I've been sort of looking across time,

tarixga nazar tashlasak

and I've been trying to find other societies

ayniysa boshqa jamiyatlarda

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

balki yaxshrioq va aqqliroq qarash va usullar bordir

about how to help creative people

yani ijodkorlarga yordam berish, ularning

sort of manage the inherent emotional risks of creativity.

hissiyotli kechinmalarining xavfli tomonidan saqlaydigan yo'llar bordir balki.

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

bu narsalarni qidirib men qadimiy Gretsiya va Rimga yo'liqdim.

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

e'tibor bering, bu shunchaki takrorlanadigan narsa emas.

But, ancient Greece and ancient Rome --

lekin qadimiy Gretsiyaliklar va Rimliklar

people did not happen to believe that creativity

ijod odamdan keladi

came from human beings back then, OK?

deb hisoblamaganlar.

People believed that creativity was this divine attendant spirit

Odamlar ijodkorlik bu ilohiy bir joyan

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

biz bilmagan joydan odamlarga keladi deb hisoblagan

for distant and unknowable reasons.

va biz bilmagan sabablarga ko'ra keladi degan.

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

Greklar bu ilohiy narsani " daemons" deb atashgan

Socrates, famously, believed that he had a daemon

Suqrot esa, hammaga mashhur, uning 'daemon' i borligiga ishongan

who spoke wisdom to him from afar.

kimki, unga uzoqdan turib aqlli fikrlarni aytib turgan.

The Romans had the same idea,

Rimliklar ham bu fikrga qo'shilgan.

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

Lekin ular nu narsani tanasiz ijodkor ruh- genius (ko'pni biluvchi daho) deb ataganlar

Which is great, because the Romans did not actually think

Bu juda zo'r, chunki u paytda Rimliklar

that a genius was a particularly clever individual.

aqlli odamni geniy ( daho) deb atamaganlar.

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

Ular geniy bu sehrli va ilohiy bir narsa deb ishongan,

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

qaysiki devorlarning ichida yashaydigan

masalan ijodkorning uyida devorlardan kelib chiqib

kind of like Dobby the house elf,

and who would come out

san'atkorga ko'zga ko'rinmasdan yordam beradigan

and sort of invisibly assist the artist with their work

va ijod natijasiga ta'sir qiladigan narsalar deb tushunishgan.

and would shape the outcome of that work.

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

Man bu men aytayotgan ijod natijasini ijodkordan ajratadigan narsa

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

- sizni ishingiz natijasidan asraydigan ruhiy chegara.

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

Va bu qanday ishlashini hamma bilgan

So the ancient artist was protected from certain things,

va qadimgi zamon ijodkorlari ba'zi bir xavslardan uzoq bo'lgan

like, for example, too much narcissism, right?

masalan, ortiqcha manmanlikdan

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

yani ajoyib san'at natijalari faqat ulardangina kelib chiqmagan

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

hamma shunga ishonganki, ko'zga ko'rinmas- geniy, daho, unga yordam bergan deb.

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

Agar ishingiz yaxshi natija bermasa, bu butunlay sizniy aybingiz emas.

Everyone knew your genius was kind of lame.

Hamma sizning ilhom paringiz uncha yaxhshi emasligi bilgan.

(Laughter)

G'arbda ijodkorlik haqida odamlar uzoq payt shundya fikrga ega bo'lgan.

And this is how people thought about creativity in the West

for a really long time.

Uyg'onish davriga kelib esa hamma narsa o'zgardi,

And then the Renaissance came and everything changed,

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

va bizdan ulkan g'oya paydo bo'ldi,

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

yani, har bir inson go'yo butun olamlarning markazida turganday

barcha sehrlar va Xudodan ham yuqorida, va hech qanday

above all gods and mysteries,

and there's no more room for mystical creatures

sehrli va ilohiy narsalarnign tepadan turib nima qilishni aytib turishiga ishonmaydigan bo'ldik.

who take dictation from the divine.

And it's the beginning of rational humanism,

Va bu ongli insoniyatning boshlanishi deb ishondik,

and people started to believe that creativity

va odamlar ijodkorlik har bir

insonning o'zidangina keladi deb ishona boshladik

came completely from the self of the individual.

And for the first time in history,

Va tarixda birinchi marta,

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

siz odamlarning geniy,iste'dod sohiblari deb atalishini eshitasiz

rather than having a genius.

yani, "ilhom parisi bor" deganning o'rniga.

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

Menimcha bu juda katta xato bo'lgan.

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

Bu go'yo, kichkina bir insonga

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

huddi borliqning manbaiday qarash,

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

yani

ilohiylik, ijodkorlik, bilinmagan va abadiy sirlar manbai

of all divine, creative, unknowable, eternal mystery

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

degan javobgarlikni bir nimjon odam ruhiga ortib qo'yishdir.

It's like asking somebody to swallow the sun.

Bu go'yo odamdan quyoshni yutib yubor deb so'ragandek

It just completely warps and distorts egos,

Bu o'zlikning qiyofasini buzish, uni o'zgartirishdir,

and it creates all these unmanageable expectations about performance.

va aynan shu, bizdan bajarib bo'lmas ishlar qilishimizni kutadi.

And I think the pressure of that

Va menimcha bu bosim beradi odamga

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

va shu tufayli ijod ahli 500 yil davomida bundan nobud bo'lib kelgan.

And, if this is true,

Agar bu to'g'ri bo'lsa,

and I think it is true,

men to'g'ri deb o'ylayman,

the question becomes, what now?

shundya savol tug'iladi " Endi nima bo'ladi?

Can we do this differently?

Biz boshqa yo'l topa olamizmi?

Maybe go back to some more ancient understanding

Balkim biz qadimiy tushunchaga qaytishimiz kerakdir?

about the relationship between humans and the creative mystery.

yani inson va uning sirli ijodkorligi orasidagi munosabatga.

Maybe not.

Balkim bunga hojat yo'qdir.

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

Balki , biz inson tarixidagi 500 yilni o'chirib tashlashimiz kerakdir

in one 18 minute speech.

mana shu 18 daqiqia ma'ruza ichida.

And there's probably people in this audience

Va hozir tomoshabinlar orasida

who would raise really legitimate scientific suspicions

ilm-fan bilan har hil

about the notion of, basically, fairies

parilar va ertaklarning yo'qligini

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

isbotlashga urinadiganlar ham bordir.

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

Men sizlarni bunga ishontirish niyatim yo'q.

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

Lekin mening savolim shuki-

you know, why not?

nima uchun ular bo'lmasligi kerak?

Why not think about it this way?

agar shunday o'ylasak nima bo'ladi?

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

Shunki bu men eshitgan barcha narsalarnign ichida eng mazmunlisi

in terms of explaining the utter maddening capriciousness

ayniqsa, ijodkorlikning ta'siridagi

of the creative process.

ruhiyatning injiqliklarining tabiatini tushunishga yordam beradi.

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

Bu jaroyon, yani bir narsa qilishga harkata qilib ko'rganlar-

yani bu yerdagi hammangiz-

which is to say basically everyone here ---

knows does not always behave rationally.

shuni biladiki- har doim ham hamma aytgandek ish tutish kerak emas.

And, in fact, can sometimes feel downright paranormal.

Va aslida, ba'zida odatdagidan boshqacha his qilasiz.

I had this encounter recently

Yaqinda men Amerikalik ajoyib shoira Ruth Stoneni uchratidim,

where I met the extraordinary American poet Ruth Stone,

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

hozir u 90 yoshlarda, lekin u butun umr davomida shoira bo'lib kelgan

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

va u menga Virginia chekkasida o'sganligi haqida gapirib berdi,

she would be out working in the fields,

dalada ishlayotgan paytida

and she said she would feel and hear a poem

u biror sherni his qilar yoki eshitganday bo'larkan

coming at her from over the landscape.

yani ovoz go'yo dalalardan kelayotgandek

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

Va u huddi havo momaqaldirog'iday

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

zamin uzra unga kelarkan

va u buni his qilar, chunki go'yo yer oyog;i ostida titragandek bo'larkan

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,

Bu paytda u faqat bir narsa qilishi kerak edi,

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

uning o'z gapiga ko'ra " uchib borib"

And she would run like hell to the house

uyga kirib she'rni

and she would be getting chased by this poem,

qog'ozga yoza boshlarkan

bi parcha qog'oz va qalamni tezda topish juda muhim bo'lgan

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

chunki agar tez yozib olmasa, she'r huddi

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

momaqaldiroqdek bir pasda o'tib ketib qolishi mumkin

Ba'zida u yozishga ulgurolmay qolganda

and grab it on the page.

And other times she wouldn't be fast enough,

yugurib uyga kelib, she'rni yozolmay

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

yo'qotgan paytlarda

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

she'r uni tashlab zamin uzra o'z yo''lida davom etar

and she said it would continue on across the landscape,

va u o'zi aytganidey" she'r boshqa shoirni izlab" ketarkan

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

Va ba'zi paytlarda

And then there were these times --

this is the piece I never forgot --

buni hech unutmayman men-

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

unga ko'ra, ba'zida she'rni deyarli tutolmay qolganda

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

uyga yugurib, qog'oz topib

unga kelib, ketib borayotgan she'rni

and the poem passes through her,

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

qalam olib, u she'rni

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

ikkinchi qo'li bilan ushlab qolarkan

huddi she'rni dumidan ushlab olgandek

and she would catch it.

va dumidan orqaga qarab tortarkan

She would catch the poem by its tail,

yani ketib borayotgan she'rni o'ziga qayatrib olarkan

and she would pull it backwards into her body

as she was transcribing on the page.

va qog'ozga tushurar ekan

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

va she'r to'liq yozilar ekan, lekin

but backwards, from the last word to the first.

oxirgi so'zdan boshlanib birnich so'z bilan tugarkan.

(Laughter)

( Kulgi)

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

Men buni eshitganimdan hayratlandim

that's exactly what my creative process is like.

shunki ilhom jaroyoni menda ham huddi shundya kechadi.

(Laughter)

( Kulgi)

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

mening ijod jaroyonim shunaqa- oson emas

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

men eshakdek ishlashim kerak

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

har kuni bir paytda uyg'onib

terlab pishib, bir ammalab ishlayman

and sweat and labor and barrel through it really awkwardly.

Va xatto men, tirishqoqligim bilan,

But even I, in my mulishness,

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

ko'p marta ana huddi shundya narsaga ucharaganman.

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

Buni ko'pchilgingiz ham boshdan kechirgansiz deb o'ylayman.

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

Men qilgan ishim va o'ylarim biror bir men

that I honestly cannot identify.

bilmagan manbadan keladi.

And what is that thing?

u nima?

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

va biz aqldan ozmay turib bunga qanday qaray olamiz?

but, in fact, might actually keep us sane?

Aslida, balki bu sizni aqlimizni saqlab turgan narsadir.

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

Men uchun eng zo'r misol bu

is the musician Tom Waits,

musiqachi Tom Waits

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

men uni bir necha yil avval jurnal uchun suhbat o'tkazgandim

And we were talking about this,

bu haqida gaplashdik,

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

, bilasizmi Tom ilhomini tanasidan ajratishga harakat qilgan

of the tormented contemporary modern artist,

zamonaviy san'atkorladan biri ,

u hamma narsasi o'zi boshqarishga harakat qilar

trying to control and manage and dominate

these sort of uncontrollable creative impulses

yani ich ichimizga singib ketgan

that were totally internalized.

ilhom to'lqinlarini ham boshqarishga harakat qilardi.

But then he got older, he got calmer,

Lekin katta bo'lgan sari u osoyishtalik topa boshladi

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

bir kuni Los Anjeles shariga mashina haydab ketayotganda

and this is when it all changed for him.

u butunlay o'zgardi

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

haydab ketayotganda u

he hears this little fragment of melody,

birdaniga bir parcha musiqa ohangini eshitadi go'yo

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

va har doimgiday ilhom uning hayoliga a'zob berib keladi.

and he wants it, it's gorgeous,

va u buni yozib olishni xohlayd

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

juda go'zal ohang, lekin u uni bu ahvolda yozolmaydi

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

na qog'oz na qalami bor

yoki ovoz yozadgina narsasi yo'q

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

va unda ilgarigiday a'zoblanishni boshlaydi

" Buni men endi yo'qotaman" degan vahima bilan

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

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

va bu qo'shiq uni butun umri ketidan quvib yuradigandek

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

Bu menign qo'limdan kelmaydi."

And instead of panicking, he just stopped.

Va vahima qilishdan birdaniga to'xtaydi

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

butun ruhiy kechinmani to'xtibdi

va butunlay bir yangi yechimga kelibdi

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

osmonga qarab shundya debdi,

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

"Kechirasiz, ko'rmayapsizmi men mashina haydayapman?"

(Laughter)

( Kulgi)

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

"Men hozir yoza oladi deb o'ylayapsizmi?"

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

"Agar chindan ham ohang bo'lishni xohlasan, qulayroq patda kel

when I can take care of you.

shunda yoz olaman.

Otherwise, go bother somebody else today.

Aks holda, bor bugun boshqa odamni bezovta qil

Go bother Leonard Cohen."

Bor Leonard Cohenga bor"

And his whole work process changed after that.

Va shu paytdan keyin uning ishlash jarayoni butunlay o'zgardi

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

yani aynan ishi emas, u har doimimgiday qo'rong'i

But the process, and the heavy anxiety around it

lekin jaraon o'zgargan, vahima qilish to'xtagan

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

o'zini iste'dod sohibi emas, iste'dod odamdan bo'lak degan

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

uni vahimaga solgan ilhom parini, qayerdan kelgan bo'lsa shu tomonga jo'natishni o'rgangan

va shuni anglaganki, ilhomni ishda saqlab a'zoblanish shart emas

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

Buni bir o'zgacha hamkorlik deb qarasa bo'ladi

It could be this peculiar, wondrous, bizarre collaboration,

kind of conversation between Tom and the strange, external thing

Tom va g'aroyib bir boshqa narsa bilan

that was not quite Tom.

va u narsa faqat Tom emas.

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

Men bu hikoyani eshitgach biroz o'zgardim

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

men ham ishinga shundya yondosha boshladim, va bu meni bir marta qutqardi.

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

Bu fikr meni " Ovqatlaning, ibodat qiling, va Seving" degan kitobimdi yozayotganda qutqardi

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

men vahimaga tusha boshlagandim

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

butun yozishim natijasi behuda bo'lsachi deb,

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

va bu eng yomon asar bo'ladi

hech narsaga arzmaydi degan o'y kelgan.

Not just bad, but the worst book ever written.

Nafaqat yomon, balki eng yomon yozilgan kitob deb.

Va men bu ishni to'xtatishim kerak dbe o'yladim

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

But then I remembered Tom talking to the open air

Lekin, Tomning gaplari esimga tushdi

and I tried it.

va men ham ochiq havoga gapirib ko'rdim.

So I just lifted my face up from the manuscript

Qo'lyozmamdan boshim ko'tarib

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

xonamning bo'sh burchagiga qarab baland ovozda

And I said aloud, "Listen you, thing,

shundya dedim" Sen o'sha narsa, meni tingla,

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

ikkalamiz shuni bilamizki bu kitob zo'r emas

that is not entirely my fault, right?

va buning hammasi menign aybim emas, to'g'rimi?

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

chunki ko'rib turganingdek men borimni berayapman bu kitobga

I don't have any more than this.

menda undan ortig'i yo'q.

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

Agar kitob yaxshiroq bo'lsin desang, sen o'z vazifangi bajar.

Mayli, agar bajarmasang ham. Nima bo'lsa bo'lar.

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

Men baribir yozaverman chunki bu mening ishim.

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

And I would please like the record to reflect today

Va shuni blib qo'yginki

men bugun ishimni bajargani keldim"

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

( Kulgi)

(Laughter)

Because --

Chunki-

(Applause)

( Qarsaklar)

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

oxirida, shunday bo'ladi. Mayli-

centuries ago in the deserts of North Africa,

asrlar avval, shimoliy Amerikaning cho'llarida

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

oydinda odamlar muborak raqs tushgani musiqa bilan yig'ilishgan

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

va bu sahargacha soatlab davom etgan.

They were always magnificent, because the dancers were professionals

Va bu har doim juda zo'r bo'lgan chuki kasbi raqs bo'lganlar raqs tushgan

and they were terrific, right?

va ular qoyil qilib raqs tushgan.

lekin onda sonda nimadir bo'lib

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

and one of these performers would actually become transcendent.

ba'zi raqqoslar o'zgacha bir ajoyib tarzda raqs tusha boshlagan

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

siz buni bilasiz

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

chunki, hayot paytingizda bir marta bo'lsa ham bunday harakatni ko'rgansiz.

a performance like this.

It was like time would stop,

Go'yo vaqt to'xtab qolgandek,

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

va raqqosa huddi o'zga dunyoga kirib qolgandek

lekin, u 1000 kecha avval qilgan narsasidan o'zgacha bo'lmasa ham

and he wasn't doing anything different

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

but everything would align.

hamma narsa huddi bir tekis terilgandek bo'ladi.

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

va bidaniga uning inson ekanligini unutish mumkin

u go'yo pastdan, ichidan

He would be lit from within, and lit from below

and all lit up on fire with divinity.

tepadan ilohiy o't bilan ko'tarilgandek tuyuladi.

And when this happened, back then,

va o'sha zamonlarda bunda bo'lganda

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

odamlar buni o'z nomlari bilan atashgan.

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

Ular qo'llarini ko'kka ko'tarib zikr qila boshlashgan,

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

" Allah, Allah, Allah, Xudo, Xudo Xudo>" deb

That's God, you know.

Bu Xudo, bilasizmi.

Curious historical footnote:

qizin bir tarixiy qo'shimcha-

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

Murlar Ispaniyaga bostirib kirganda, ular o'zlari bilan shundya urf odatni olgan

and the pronunciation changed over the centuries

va talaffuz yillar davomida

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

" Allah, Allah, Allah" dan " Ole. Ole, Ole" ga o'zgargan.

which you still hear in bullfights and in flamenco dances.

Siz buni hozir ham buqa urishtirshlarda yoki Flamenko raqslarida eshitasiz.

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

Ispaniyada, san'atkor bajarib bo'lmas bir sehrli ish qilsa

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

" Allah, ole, ole, Allah. Ajoyib. Barakalla" deyishgan

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

yani ong bilan qamrab bo'lmas, Xudoning aksi.

Which is great, because we need that.

Bu zo'r. Chunki bizga shu kerak.

But, the tricky bit comes the next morning,

Lekin ertasiga ertalab vaziyat o'zgaradi

for the dancer himself, when he wakes up and discovers

raqqosa uyg'onganida

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

masalan Seshanba kuni soat 11, va unda xudonign aksi endi yo'q

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

u ham oddiy noabad inson, og'rigan tizzasi bilan

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

va balkim u endi hech qachon shu darajada raqs tusholmas.

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

balkim hech kim endi u aylanganda Xudonign ismini aytib zikr tushmas

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

va shunda u qolgan hayoti bilan nima qilishi kerak?

This is hard.

Bu qiyin masala.

This is one of the most painful reconciliations to make

Bu eng qiyin yuzma yuz bo'ladigan holat

in a creative life.

ayniqsa ijod ahli uchun.

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

balkim bunchalik dard chekish kerakmasdir

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

agar masalan, avvalo ijodkorlik manbai

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

va uning g'aroyibotlari sizdan kelmasligini tan olsangiz.

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

Balki bu sizga vaqtincha berilgan narsa , qarz deb tushunsangiz

from some unimaginable source for some exquisite portion of your life

siz bilmagan manbadan vaqtincha sizga keladi deb ishonsangiz

to be passed along when you're finished,

va siz ijod qilib bo'lgach u boshqalarga boradigandir.

with somebody else.

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

Bundan o'ylash hamam narsani o'zgartiradi.

This is how I've started to think,

Men shundya o'ylay boshladim

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

bir necha oy davomida,

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

va yaqinda nashr qilinadigan kitob ustida ishlayapman,

as the dangerously, frighteningly over-anticipated follow up

va yaqinda muvaffaqiyatli ishimdan oshib tushishini

to my freakish success.

kutish juda xavfli.

And what I have to sort of keep telling myself

O'zimga o'zim

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

vahimaga tushgan paytlarda

qo'rma deyman.

Don't be daunted. Just do your job.

Vahima qilma.

Shunchaki ishingi qil.

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

O'z qo'lingdan kelgancha davom etaver.

If your job is to dance, do your dance.

Agar ishing raqs tushish bo'lsa, raqs tush.

If the divine, cockeyed genius assigned to your case

Agar ilohiy qudrat senga shu vazifani bergan bo'lsa

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

va bir daqiqaga bo'lsa ham o'z ajoyibotni aks sening ishingda

through your efforts, then "Olé!"

aks ettirishga qaror qilsa, unda " Ole!"

agar bo'lmasa, mayli o'zingcha raqs tushaver.

And if not, do your dance anyhow.

And "Olé!" to you, nonetheless.

Va nima bo'lsa ham sizga "Ole!"

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

Va menimcha biz bu fikrni o'rgatishimiz kerak

"Ole!", nima bo'lsa ham.

"Olé!" to you, nonetheless,

just for having the sheer human love and stubbornness

inson muhabbati va injiqligi uchun

to keep showing up.

va harakat uchun

Thank you.

Rahmat.

(Applause)

(Qarsaklar)

Thank you.

Rahmat.

(Applause)

(Qarsaklar)

June Cohen: Olé!

June Cohen: Ole!

(Applause)

(Qarsaklar)