So a while ago, I tried an experiment. For one year, I would say yes to all the things that scared me. Anything that made me nervous, took me out of my comfort zone, I forced myself to say yes to. Did I want to speak in public? No, but yes. Did I want to be on live TV? No, but yes. Did I want to try acting? No, no, no, but yes, yes, yes.
Nedavno sam pokušala jedan eksperiment. Godinu dana ću govoriti DA svemu što me plaši. Svemu što me čini nervoznom, što me izvlači iz sigurne zone. Prisilila sam se da kažem "da". Želim li govoriti u javnosti? Ne, ali da. Želim li uživo biti na TV-u? Ne, ali da. Želim li probati glumiti? Ne, ne, ne, ali, da, da, da.
And a crazy thing happened: the very act of doing the thing that scared me undid the fear, made it not scary. My fear of public speaking, my social anxiety, poof, gone. It's amazing, the power of one word. "Yes" changed my life. "Yes" changed me. But there was one particular yes that affected my life in the most profound way, in a way I never imagined, and it started with a question from my toddler.
I dogodila se luda stvar: samim time što sam radila ono čega sam se bojala uklonila sam strah, učinila sam da više nije strašno. Moj strah od javnog govora, socijalna anksioznost, puf - nestalo je. Zapanjujuća je moć jedne riječi. "Da" je promijenilo moj život. "Da" je promijenilo mene. No, dogodilo se jedno određeno "da" koje je promijenilo moj život na najdublji mogući način, na način koji nisam mogla ni zamisliti i došao je od pitanja koje mi je postavilo moje dijete.
I have these three amazing daughters, Harper, Beckett and Emerson, and Emerson is a toddler who inexplicably refers to everyone as "honey." as though she's a Southern waitress.
Imam tri divne kćeri, Harper, Beckett i Emerson, i Emerson je tek prohodala, a svima se obraća sa "dušo", kao da je južnjačka konobarica.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
"Honey, I'm gonna need some milk for my sippy cup."
"Dušo, treba mi mlijeko za moju bocu."
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
The Southern waitress asked me to play with her one evening when I was on my way somewhere, and I said, "Yes." And that yes was the beginning of a new way of life for my family. I made a vow that from now on, every time one of my children asks me to play, no matter what I'm doing or where I'm going, I say yes, every single time. Almost. I'm not perfect at it, but I try hard to practice it. And it's had a magical effect on me, on my children, on our family. But it's also had a stunning side effect, and it wasn't until recently that I fully understood it, that I understood that saying yes to playing with my children likely saved my career.
Južnjačka konobarica zamolila me da se igram s njom jedne večeri upravo kad sam se spremala otići, ali rekla sam "da". I to "da" bilo je početak novog načina života za moju obitelj. Zavjetovala sam se da ću odsad nadalje, kad god me jedno od moje djece pita da se igramo bez obzira što radila ili kamo išla, reći "da", svaki put. Skoro. Nisam savršena u tome, ali trudim se to prakticirati. I imalo je magičan utjecaj na mene, na moju djecu i našu obitelj. No, imalo je i još jedan zadivljujući efekt koji nisam razumjela donedavno. Nisam razumjela da sam time što sam govorila "da" igranju s djecom spasila svoju karijeru.
See, I have what most people would call a dream job. I'm a writer. I imagine. I make stuff up for a living. Dream job. No. I'm a titan. Dream job. I create television. I executive produce television. I make television, a great deal of television. In one way or another, this TV season, I'm responsible for bringing about 70 hours of programming to the world. Four television programs, 70 hours of TV --
Vidite, bavim se onim što bi većina ljudi nazvala "posao iz snova". Spisateljica sam. Maštam. Maštom zarađujem za život. Posao iz snova. Ne. Titan sam. Posao iz snova. Stvaram televiziju. Izvršna sam producentica. Televiziju činim itekakvom televizijom. Bilo kako bilo, ove televizijske sezone odgovorna sam za stvaranje 70 sati programa za cijeli svijet. Četiri televizijska programa, 70 sati TV-a
(Applause)
(Pljesak)
Three shows in production at a time, sometimes four. Each show creates hundreds of jobs that didn't exist before. The budget for one episode of network television can be anywhere from three to six million dollars. Let's just say five. A new episode made every nine days times four shows, so every nine days that's 20 million dollars worth of television, four television programs, 70 hours of TV, three shows in production at a time, sometimes four, 16 episodes going on at all times: 24 episodes of "Grey's," 21 episodes of "Scandal," 15 episodes of "How To Get Away With Murder," 10 episodes of "The Catch," that's 70 hours of TV, that's 350 million dollars for a season. In America, my television shows are back to back to back on Thursday night. Around the world, my shows air in 256 territories in 67 languages for an audience of 30 million people. My brain is global, and 45 hours of that 70 hours of TV are shows I personally created and not just produced, so on top of everything else, I need to find time, real quiet, creative time, to gather my fans around the campfire and tell my stories. Four television programs, 70 hours of TV, three shows in production at a time, sometimes four, 350 million dollars, campfires burning all over the world. You know who else is doing that? Nobody, so like I said, I'm a titan. Dream job.
Tri serije u produkciji, ponekad - četiri. Svaka serija stvara stotine poslova koji prije nisu postojali. Budžet za jednu epizodu televizijske serije može se kretati od 3 do 6 milijuna dolara. Recimo, u prosjeku 5. Jedna epizoda svakih 9 dana puta 4 serije znači da svakih 9 dana odnosi 20 milijuna dolara vrijednosti, 4 televizijska programa, 70 sati na TV-u, 3 serije u trenutnoj produkciji, ponekad 4, 16 epizoda u tijeku u svako vrijeme: 24 epizode "Grey's Anatomy", 21 "Scandal", 15 epizoda "How To Get Away With Murder", 10 epizoda "The Catch", to je 70 sati na TV-u, to je 350 milijuna dolara po sezoni. U Americi, moje serije emitiraju se četvrtkom navečer. Širom svijeta, moje serije prikazuju se na 256 teritorija i na 67 jezika za publiku od 30 milijuna ljudi. Moj je mozak globalan, i 45 od tih 70 sati na TV-u stvorila sam ja osobno, i to ne samo produkciju, pa povrh svega ostalog moram pronaći vrijeme, uistinu tiho, kreativno vrijeme da okupim obožavatelje oko logorske vatre i ispričam svoje priče. Četiri televizijska programa, 70 sati na TV-u, tri serije u trenutnoj produkciji, ponekad četiri, 350 milijuna dolara, logorske vatre po cijelom svijetu. Znate li tko to još radi? Nitko. Pa kako sam i rekla - ja sam titan. Posao iz snova.
(Applause)
(Pljesak)
Now, I don't tell you this to impress you. I tell you this because I know what you think of when you hear the word "writer." I tell you this so that all of you out there who work so hard, whether you run a company or a country or a classroom or a store or a home, take me seriously when I talk about working, so you'll get that I don't peck at a computer and imagine all day, so you'll hear me when I say that I understand that a dream job is not about dreaming. It's all job, all work, all reality, all blood, all sweat, no tears. I work a lot, very hard, and I love it.
Naime, ne govorim vam ovo da vas zadivim. Govorim vam ovo zato što znam što pomislite kad čujete "spisateljica". Govorim vam ovo kako biste me svi vi koji naporno radite, bilo da vodite tvrtku, državu ili učionicu, trgovinu ili dom, shvatili ozbiljno kad govorim o poslu, kako biste shvatili da ne buljim u računalo i ne maštam cijeli dan, kako biste me čuli kad kažem da shvaćam da posao iz snova nije sanjarenje. Sve je to posao, rad, stvarnost, krv, znoj i bez suza. Puno radim, naporno, ali ja to volim.
When I'm hard at work, when I'm deep in it, there is no other feeling. For me, my work is at all times building a nation out of thin air. It is manning the troops. It is painting a canvas. It is hitting every high note. It is running a marathon. It is being Beyoncé. And it is all of those things at the same time. I love working. It is creative and mechanical and exhausting and exhilarating and hilarious and disturbing and clinical and maternal and cruel and judicious, and what makes it all so good is the hum. There is some kind of shift inside me when the work gets good. A hum begins in my brain, and it grows and it grows and that hum sounds like the open road, and I could drive it forever. And a lot of people, when I try to explain the hum, they assume that I'm talking about the writing, that my writing brings me joy. And don't get me wrong, it does. But the hum -- it wasn't until I started making television that I started working, working and making and building and creating and collaborating, that I discovered this thing, this buzz, this rush, this hum. The hum is more than writing. The hum is action and activity. The hum is a drug. The hum is music. The hum is light and air. The hum is God's whisper right in my ear. And when you have a hum like that, you can't help but strive for greatness. That feeling, you can't help but strive for greatness at any cost. That's called the hum. Or, maybe it's called being a workaholic.
Kad se zadubim u svoj posao, ne postoji nijedan drugi osjećaj. Za mene, moj je posao u svakom trenutku građenje nacije iz ničega. Popunjavanje trupa, slikanje na platnu. Pogađanje svake visoke note, trčanje maratona. To znači biti Beyoncé. I sve to u isto vrijeme. Volim raditi. Kreativno je i mehaničko i iscrpljujuće i stimulirajuće i smiješno i ometajuće i kliničko i majčinski i zlobno i razumno, a ono što to sve čini dobrim je zujanje. Postoji neki pokret unutar mene kada posao postane dobar. Zujanje započne u mom mozgu i raste i raste, a zvuči kao cesta na otvorenom, po kojoj bih mogla voziti zauvijek. Puno ljudi, kada im pokušam objasniti to zujanje, pomisle da govorim o pisanju, da me pisanje usrećuje. Nemojte me krivo shvatiti, usrećuje me. Ali zujanje -- nije postojalo prije rada na televiziji. Tada sam počela raditi, raditi i stvarati i graditi i kreirati i surađivati, tada sam to otkrila, taj bzz, juriš, zujanje. Zujanje je više od pisanja. Zujanje je čin i aktivnost. Zujanje je droga. Zujanje je glazba. Ono je svjetlost i zrak. Zujanje je Božji šapat u moje uho. I kada to doživite, ne možete ništa osim težiti prema veličini. Taj osjećaj, da možete samo težiti prema nečem velikom pod svaku cijenu. To se zove zujanje. Ili se možda zove "biti radoholičar".
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
Maybe it's called genius. Maybe it's called ego. Maybe it's just fear of failure. I don't know. I just know that I'm not built for failure, and I just know that I love the hum. I just know that I want to tell you I'm a titan, and I know that I don't want to question it.
Možda se zove genij. Možda se zove ego. Možda je to samo strah od neuspjeha. Ne znam. Samo znam da nisam stvorena za neuspjeh i znam da volim to zujanje. Samo znam da vam želim reći da sam ja titan. I znam da to ne želim preispitivati.
But here's the thing: the more successful I become, the more shows, the more episodes, the more barriers broken, the more work there is to do, the more balls in the air, the more eyes on me, the more history stares, the more expectations there are. The more I work to be successful, the more I need to work. And what did I say about work? I love working, right? The nation I'm building, the marathon I'm running, the troops, the canvas, the high note, the hum, the hum, the hum. I like that hum. I love that hum. I need that hum. I am that hum. Am I nothing but that hum?
Ali u ovome je stvar: što sam uspješnija, što je više serija i epizoda, što je više srušenih barijera, što je više posla za napraviti, zadataka i odgovornosti, očiju uprtih u mene, pogleda iz prošlosti, to je i više očekivanja. Što više radim da bih bila uspješnija, to više moram raditi. A što sam ono rekla o poslu? Volim raditi, zar ne? Nacija koju gradim, maraton koji trčim, trupe, platna, visoka nota, zujanje, zujanje, zujanje. Sviđa mi se zujanje. Volim ga. Potrebno mi je zujanje. Ja sam to zujanje. Zar nisam ništa osim tog zujanja?
And then the hum stopped. Overworked, overused, overdone, burned out. The hum stopped.
I tada je zujanje prestalo. Premorena, prezaposlena, prezasićena, pregorjela. Zujanje je prestalo.
Now, my three daughters are used to the truth that their mother is a single working titan. Harper tells people, "My mom won't be there, but you can text my nanny." And Emerson says, "Honey, I'm wanting to go to ShondaLand." They're children of a titan. They're baby titans. They were 12, 3, and 1 when the hum stopped. The hum of the engine died. I stopped loving work. I couldn't restart the engine. The hum would not come back. My hum was broken. I was doing the same things I always did, all the same titan work, 15-hour days, working straight through the weekends, no regrets, never surrender, a titan never sleeps, a titan never quits, full hearts, clear eyes, yada, whatever. But there was no hum. Inside me was silence. Four television programs, 70 hours of TV, three shows in production at a time, sometimes four. Four television programs, 70 hours of TV, three shows in production at a time ... I was the perfect titan. I was a titan you could take home to your mother. All the colors were the same, and I was no longer having any fun. And it was my life. It was all I did. I was the hum, and the hum was me. So what do you do when the thing you do, the work you love, starts to taste like dust?
A sada, moje tri kćeri navikle su se na činjenicu da je njihova majka jedan radni titan. Harper kaže ljudima, "Moja mama neće doći, ali možete kontaktirati moju dadilju." I Emerson kaže: "Dušo, želim ići u ShondaLand." One su djeca jedne titanice. One su bebe titani. Imale su 12, 3 i 1 godinu kada je zujanje prestalo. Zujanje motora se ugasilo. Prestala sam voljeti posao. Nisam mogla pokrenuti motor. Zujanje se nije htjelo vratiti. Bilo je slomljeno. Radila sam stvari koje sam oduvijek radila, isti titanski posao. 15 sati dnevno, rad vikendom, bez žaljenja, bez predaje, titan nikad ne spava i nikad se ne predaje, puno srce, bistre oči, štogod. Ali nije bilo zujanja. Unutar mene nalazila se tišina. 4 programa, 70 sati na TV-u, tri serije u trenutnoj produkciji, ponekad četiri. 4 programa, 70 sati na TV-u, tri serije u trenutnoj produkciji... Bila sam savršeni titan. Bila sam titan kojeg biste odveli kući svojoj majci. Sve su boje postale iste i više se nisam zabavljala. I na to se sveo moj život. Sve što sam radila. Ja sam bila to zujanje i ono je bilo ja. I što učiniti kad ono što radiš, posao koji voliš, dobije okus prašine?
Now, I know somebody's out there thinking, "Cry me a river, stupid writer titan lady."
Znam da si netko sad vjerojatno misli, "Meni su se dogodile i gore stvari, titanska spisateljico."
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
But you know, you do, if you make, if you work, if you love what you do, being a teacher, being a banker, being a mother, being a painter, being Bill Gates, if you simply love another person and that gives you the hum, if you know the hum, if you know what the hum feels like, if you have been to the hum, when the hum stops, who are you? What are you? What am I? Am I still a titan? If the song of my heart ceases to play, can I survive in the silence?
Znate, ako nešto činite, ako stvarate, ako radite, ako volite ono čime se bavite, biti učitelj, bankar, majka, slikar, biti Bill Gates, ako jednostavno volite drugu osobu i to vam pruža zujanje, ako vam je ono poznato, ako znate kakvog je osjećaja zujanje, ako ste ga iskusili, tko ste, ako to zujanje stane? Što ste? Što sam ja? Jesam li još uvijek titan? Ako pjesma mog srca želi da je se čuje, mogu li preživjeti u tišini?
And then my Southern waitress toddler asks me a question. I'm on my way out the door, I'm late, and she says, "Momma, wanna play?"
I tada mi moja djevojčica, južnjačka konobarica, postavi pitanje. Upravo sam na odlasku, kasnim, a ona kaže: "Mama, želiš se igrati?"
And I'm just about to say no, when I realize two things. One, I'm supposed to say yes to everything, and two, my Southern waitress didn't call me "honey." She's not calling everyone "honey" anymore. When did that happen? I'm missing it, being a titan and mourning my hum, and here she is changing right before my eyes. And so she says, "Momma, wanna play?" And I say, "Yes." There's nothing special about it. We play, and we're joined by her sisters, and there's a lot of laughing, and I give a dramatic reading from the book Everybody Poops. Nothing out of the ordinary.
I namjeravala sam reći ne, no shvatila sam dvije stvari. Prvo, trebala bih svemu govoriti da. I drugo, moja južnjačka konobarica nije me oslovila sa "dušo". Nikoga više ne oslovljava sa "dušo". Kad se to dogodilo? Propustila sam to dok sam bila titan i tugovala za zujanjem, a evo nje, mijenja se ispred mojih očiju. I tako ona kaže: "Mama, želiš se igrati?" I ja kažem "da". Nema tu ničeg posebnog. Igramo se i pridruže nam se njezine sestre, puno se smijemo, a ja dramatično čitam knjigu "Svi kakaju". Ništa neobično.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
And yet, it is extraordinary, because in my pain and my panic, in the homelessness of my humlessness, I have nothing to do but pay attention. I focus. I am still. The nation I'm building, the marathon I'm running, the troops, the canvas, the high note does not exist. All that exists are sticky fingers and gooey kisses and tiny voices and crayons and that song about letting go of whatever it is that Frozen girl needs to let go of.
Ali opet, to je neobično, jer u svoj svojoj boli i panici, u beskućništvu i nedostatku zujanja, ne mogu ništa osim obratiti pažnju. Fokusiram se. Mirna sam. Nacija koju gradim, maraton koji trčim, trupe, platno i visoka nota ne postoje. Sve što postoji su ljepljivi prstići i gnjecave puse i tihi glasići i bojice i pjesma o puštanju onoga što djevojka iz Frozena već mora pustiti.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
It's all peace and simplicity. The air is so rare in this place for me that I can barely breathe. I can barely believe I'm breathing. Play is the opposite of work. And I am happy. Something in me loosens. A door in my brain swings open, and a rush of energy comes. And it's not instantaneous, but it happens, it does happen. I feel it. A hum creeps back. Not at full volume, barely there, it's quiet, and I have to stay very still to hear it, but it is there. Not the hum, but a hum.
Sve je u miru i jednostavnosti. Zrak je ovdje toliko rijedak da jedva mogu disati. Jedva mogu vjerovati da dišem. Igranje je u suprotnosti s poslom. A ja sam sretna. Nešto se u meni opušta. Vrata u mom mozgu otvaraju se i događa se navala energije. Nije trenutna, no događa se. Uistinu se događa. Osjećam je. Zujanje se vraća puzeći. Ne u punom opsegu, jedva se pojavilo, tiho je, i moram biti mirna kako bih ga čula, ali ovdje je. Ne zujanje, nego zuj.
And now I feel like I know a very magical secret. Well, let's not get carried away. It's just love. That's all it is. No magic. No secret. It's just love. It's just something we forgot. The hum, the work hum, the hum of the titan, that's just a replacement. If I have to ask you who I am, if I have to tell you who I am, if I describe myself in terms of shows and hours of television and how globally badass my brain is, I have forgotten what the real hum is. The hum is not power and the hum is not work-specific. The hum is joy-specific. The real hum is love-specific. The hum is the electricity that comes from being excited by life. The real hum is confidence and peace. The real hum ignores the stare of history, and the balls in the air, and the expectation, and the pressure. The real hum is singular and original. The real hum is God's whisper in my ear, but maybe God was whispering the wrong words, because which one of the gods was telling me I was the titan?
I osjećam se kao da sam spoznala magičnu tajnu. No, nemojmo se zanijeti. To je ljubav. O tome se radi. Nije magija. Nije tajna. Samo ljubav. To je nešto što smo zaboravili. Zujanje, zujanje zbog posla, zujanje titana, to je samo zamjena. Ako vas moram pitati tko sam ja, ako vam moram reći tko sam ja, ako se opišem vezano za serije i sate na televiziji i koliko je moj mozak super na globalnom planu, zaboravljam što je pravo zujanje. Ono nije moć i nije vezano uz određeni posao. Vezano je uz radost. Pravo zujanje vezano je uz ljubav. Zujanje je elektricitet koji se javlja zbog toga što ste uzbuđeni životom. Pravo zujanje su samopouzdanje i mir. Pravo zujanje ignorira pogled iz prošlosti, obaveze u zraku, očekivanja i pritisak. Pravo zujanje je jedinstveno i originalno. Ono je Božji šapat u mom uhu, no možda mi je Bog šaptao pogrešne riječi, jer koji mi je od bogova mogao reći da sam ja titan?
It's just love. We could all use a little more love, a lot more love. Any time my child asks me to play, I will say yes. I make it a firm rule for one reason, to give myself permission, to free me from all of my workaholic guilt. It's a law, so I don't have a choice, and I don't have a choice, not if I want to feel the hum.
To je samo ljubav. Svima bi nam dobro došlo malo više ljubavi, puno više ljubavi. Svaki put kad me dijete zamoli da se igramo, reći ću da. To je strogo pravilo iz jednog razloga, da si dam dopuštenje, kako bih se oslobodila radoholičarske krivnje. To je zakon, pa nemam puno izbora, nemam izbora čak i ako želim osjetiti zujanje.
I wish it were that easy, but I'm not good at playing. I don't like it. I'm not interested in doing it the way I'm interested in doing work. The truth is incredibly humbling and humiliating to face. I don't like playing. I work all the time because I like working. I like working more than I like being at home. Facing that fact is incredibly difficult to handle, because what kind of person likes working more than being at home?
Voljela bih da je tako jednostavno, no nisam dobra u igranju. Ne sviđa mi se. Nisam zainteresirana za igranje koliko i za posao. Neopisivo je ponižavajuće suočiti se s istinom. Ne sviđa mi se igrati se. Neprestano radim jer volim raditi. Više volim raditi nego biti kod kuće. Suočiti se s tom činjenicom neopisivo je teško jer koja to osoba više voli raditi nego biti kod kuće?
Well, me. I mean, let's be honest, I call myself a titan. I've got issues.
Pa... ja. Mislim, budimo iskreni, zovem se titanicom. Imam nekih problema.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
And one of those issues isn't that I am too relaxed.
I jedan od tih problema nije moja prevelika opuštenost.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
We run around the yard, up and back and up and back. We have 30-second dance parties. We sing show tunes. We play with balls. I blow bubbles and they pop them. And I feel stiff and delirious and confused most of the time. I itch for my cell phone always. But it is OK. My tiny humans show me how to live and the hum of the universe fills me up. I play and I play until I begin to wonder why we ever stop playing in the first place.
Trčimo po dvorištu, gore i dolje, gore i dolje. Organiziramo zabave s plesom koje traju 30 sekundi. Pjevamo pjesme, igramo se loptama. Ja pušem balončiće, one ih buše. I većinu vremena osjećam se kruto, zaneseno i zbunjeno. Neprestano tražim mobitel. Ali to je ok. Moja mala bića pokazuju mi kako živjeti i zujanje svemira me ispunjava. Igram se i igram se dok se ne zapitam zašto se uopće prestajemo igrati.
You can do it too, say yes every time your child asks you to play. Are you thinking that maybe I'm an idiot in diamond shoes? You're right, but you can still do this. You have time. You know why? Because you're not Rihanna and you're not a Muppet. Your child does not think you're that interesting.
I vi to možete raditi, reći "da" svaki put kad vas dijete zamoli da se igrate. Mislite li da sam ja možda idiot u dijamantnim cipelama? U pravu ste, no i dalje možete to činiti. Imate vremena. Znate zašto? Jer niste Rihanna i niste Muppet. Vaše dijete ne smatra vas toliko zanimljivima.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
You only need 15 minutes. My two- and four-year-old only ever want to play with me for about 15 minutes or so before they think to themselves they want to do something else. It's an amazing 15 minutes, but it's 15 minutes. If I'm not a ladybug or a piece of candy, I'm invisible after 15 minutes.
Potrebno vam je 15 minuta. Moje dvo- i četverogodišnjakinja žele se igrati sa mnom nekih 15 minuta prije nego se sjete da bi radije radile nešto drugo. To je predivnih 15 minuta, no i dalje je to 15 minuta. Ako nisam bubamara ili komad slatkiša, nakon 15 minuta postajem nevidljiva.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
And my 13-year-old, if I can get a 13-year-old to talk to me for 15 minutes I'm Parent of the Year.
A ako svoju 13-godišnjakinju uopće mogu nagovoriti da priča sa mnom 15 minuta, roditelj sam godine.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
15 minutes is all you need. I can totally pull off 15 minutes of uninterrupted time on my worst day. Uninterrupted is the key. No cell phone, no laundry, no anything. You have a busy life. You have to get dinner on the table. You have to force them to bathe. But you can do 15 minutes. My kids are my happy place, they're my world, but it doesn't have to be your kids, the fuel that feeds your hum, the place where life feels more good than not good. It's not about playing with your kids, it's about joy. It's about playing in general. Give yourself the 15 minutes. Find what makes you feel good. Just figure it out and play in that arena.
15 minuta je sve što vam je potrebno. Definitivno mogu pronaći 15 neometanih minuta, čak i u najgorem danu. Neometanost je ključna. Nema mobitela, prljavog rublja, ničega. Imate zauzet život. Morate postaviti večeru na stol. Morate ih tjerati na kupanje. Ali možete naći 15 minuta. Moja djeca su moje sretno mjesto, ona su moj svijet, no ne moraju djeca biti ono što hrani vaše zujanje, mjesto gdje se život više čini dobrim nego lošim. Nije stvar u igranju s djecom, već u radosti. Radi se o igranju općenito. Dajte si 15 minuta. Pronađite ono u čemu se osjećate ugodno. Pronađite što je to i igrajte se.
I'm not perfect at it. In fact, I fail as often as I succeed, seeing friends, reading books, staring into space. "Wanna play?" starts to become shorthand for indulging myself in ways I'd given up on right around the time I got my first TV show, right around the time I became a titan-in-training, right around the time I started competing with myself for ways unknown. 15 minutes? What could be wrong with giving myself my full attention for 15 minutes? Turns out, nothing. The very act of not working has made it possible for the hum to return, as if the hum's engine could only refuel while I was away. Work doesn't work without play.
Nisam savršena u tome. Pogriješim onoliko puta koliko uspijem, u druženju s prijateljima, čitanju knjiga, buljenju u prazno. "Želiš se igrati?" postaje kratica za davanje sebe na načine od kojih bih odustala u vrijeme kad sam dobila prvu TV seriju, u vrijeme kad sam postala titan u treniranju, u vrijeme kad sam se počela natjecati sa sobom na nepoznate načine. 15 minuta? Što može biti krivo u davanju potpune pozornosti tijekom 15 minuta? Izgleda, ništa. Sam čin prestajanja s radom bio je način na koji se zujanje vratilo, kao da se motor za zujanje mogao napuniti samo u mojoj odsutnosti. Posao ne funkcionira bez igre.
It takes a little time, but after a few months, one day the floodgates open and there's a rush, and I find myself standing in my office filled with an unfamiliar melody, full on groove inside me, and around me, and it sends me spinning with ideas, and the humming road is open, and I can drive it and drive it, and I love working again. But now, I like that hum, but I don't love that hum. I don't need that hum. I am not that hum. That hum is not me, not anymore. I am bubbles and sticky fingers and dinners with friends. I am that hum. Life's hum. Love's hum. Work's hum is still a piece of me, it is just no longer all of me, and I am so grateful. And I don't give a crap about being a titan, because I have never once seen a titan play Red Rover, Red Rover.
Potrebno je nešto vremena, no nakon nekoliko mjeseci, jednog dana brana se otvori i krene poplava, a ja stojim u svom uredu ispunjena nepoznatom melodijom, nepoznatim kolosijecima, čak i oko mene, i to me šalje u vrtlog ideja, cesta zujanja je otvorena i ja mogu voziti i voziti i ponovno volim raditi. Ali trenutno, sviđa mi se to zujanje, no ne volim ga. Nije mi potrebno. Ja nisam to zujanje i ono nije ja, barem ne više. Ja sam balončići i ljepljivi prstići i večere s prijateljima. To zujanje sam ja. Život je zujanje. Ljubav je zujanje. Zujanje oko posla i dalje je dio mene, ali ono nije ja. I na tome sam zahvalna. I nije me briga hoću li biti titan, jer nikada nisam vidjela titana kako igra Red Rover, Red Rover.
I said yes to less work and more play, and somehow I still run my world. My brain is still global. My campfires still burn. The more I play, the happier I am, and the happier my kids are. The more I play, the more I feel like a good mother. The more I play, the freer my mind becomes. The more I play, the better I work. The more I play, the more I feel the hum, the nation I'm building, the marathon I'm running, the troops, the canvas, the high note, the hum, the hum, the other hum, the real hum, life's hum. The more I feel that hum, the more this strange, quivering, uncocooned, awkward, brand new, alive non-titan feels like me. The more I feel that hum, the more I know who I am. I'm a writer, I make stuff up, I imagine. That part of the job, that's living the dream. That's the dream of the job. Because a dream job should be a little bit dreamy.
Rekla sam da manjem opsegu posla i igri, ali i dalje vladam svojim svijetom. Moj mozak je i dalje globalan. Logorske vatre još uvijek gore. Što se više igram, to sam sretnija, i to su i moja djeca sretnija. Što se više igram, više se osjećam kao dobra majka. Što se više igram, to je moj um slobodniji. Što se više igram, to bolje radim. Što se više igram, više osjećam zujanje, nacija koju gradim, maraton koji trčim, trupe, platna, visoka nota, zujanje i zujanje, jedno i drugo zujanje, život je zujanje. Što ga više osjećam, to se ovaj strani, drhtureći, začahureni, nespretan, potpuno novi, živi ne-titan više osjeća kao ja. Što više osjećam to zujanje, to više znam tko sam ja. Ja sam spisateljica, izmišljam stvari, maštam. Taj dio posla je življenje sna. To je san u svakom poslu. Zato što bi posao iz snova trebao biti sanjiviji.
I said yes to less work and more play. Titans need not apply.
Rekla sam da manjem opsegu posla i igranju. Titani nisu dobrodošli.
Wanna play?
Želite li se igrati?
Thank you.
Hvala vam.
(Applause)
(Pljesak)