original painting by Brooke Harker sold at Edward Montgomery Fine Art in Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA.
Inspired by a photograph taken by Ross Smillie.
The Golden Gate Bridge has been a symbol of gratitude to me since I first saw it on my 30th birthday. Anyone who has spent time with me on a birthday knows that I like to play games in celebration of however many years a person turns. This tradition started in an intense karate class during my college years. As I’d grown up in a back brace for scoliosis and had a spinal fusion at thirteen, I always had an excuse out of gym class and any physical exertion that seemed competitive. I’d gladly dance for hours in theater rehearsals because it was fun, but didn’t run a mile until I turned 19. I identified with the idea of being slightly broken and weak physically in certain situations. When a friend convinced me to check out a karate class with her, something changed. I wanted to get strong. I choked back tears through many classes as I learned that I wasn’t as breakable as I’d thought.
The private class took place in the basement of a ranch style home on several acres in the country. My instructor, a fifth degree black belt at 40 and a woman, was not someone I would ever want to piss off or run into in a dark alley. She had a history of training guys before they went into the Navy Seals and was completely bad-ass. Young guys in their twenties quickly learned that there was no place for an over inflated ego or competition in the dojo. She had a way of breaking them down until they had no energy left to be cocky. She created eclectic unpredictable classes which kept training fresh. The element of the unknown added a bit of terror to showing up for class. When we arrived, we didn’t know if we would be fighting with sticks, learning knife techniques, grappling, sparring in a river, or meditating. When anyone in the dojo had a birthday, there were torturous calisthenics in sets of however old that person turned. I feared my 23rd birthday…I just wanted to survive. Then several classmates turned 50. I learned to be thankful for the privilege of breathing.
Since I survived those birthday workouts, I’ve continued to believe that there is no time to pout on a birthday about getting older. We get to breathe. That is enough. I’ve created my own birthday challenges and games ever since, often less strenuous in design, but always a celebration of the privilege of being alive. When I lived in Germany after college, I got one friend to do calisthenics on her birthday in sets of 28 on 28 different street corners. My impromptu plan to jump in 24 puddles in Paris on my 24th wasn’t the smartest of plans as I ended up with wet socks on an already rainy day. Then several friends chased me through the streets at night with silly string, which I didn’t plan and couldn’t stop. I laughed until I could hardly breathe. I darted along cobblestone streets and hid momentarily behind parked cars for shelter. The friends who chased me were all fellow preschool teachers with me at the time. They maintained a spirit of wonder over the little things and the knowledge that play is one of the best ways to learn at any age.
When I celebrated my 30th on the Golden Gate Bridge, a friend from the days I lived in Europe joined me as she had relocated to the bay area. The Golden Gate Challenge highlighted what I had learned from all of the birthday challenges in the past, gratitude. I’d like to say our activities were something noticeably exhilarating, reminiscent of a ninja movie, such as a dash across the tops of 30 moving cars before scaling 30 support beams on the bridge. Really we decided to walk across the bridge and back, about 3.4 miles. On the way over, we took turns sharing what we felt grateful for until we each reached 30. We stopped along the way to do random yoga poses which mainly amused me. On the return walk, we each shared 30 things we wanted to create in our lives. I don’t remember the details of what we discussed. I only remember feeling absolutely high on life. It was a magical.
While I painted Golden Gate Shores, I got to feel those feelings again. I fell in love with this painting the way a mother watches a sleeping child- with no sense of urgency to do tasks that once seemed important. I could only be in those strokes of paint. I moved slower than I ever had while painting. I felt the deepest sense of peace and contentment. I didn’t have to be anyone more than I already was in those moments. A bridge itself is a symbol of connection between two places…such as the shift between two states…from ignorance to wisdom, from sorrow to joy, from regret to acceptance, from stress to relaxation. Each time I see an image of the Golden Gate Bridge, I remember the feeling of that birthday and the choice to cross from an average emotional state, to an extraordinary one. It just took a willingness to play…a trait that we all have, however deep it might be buried.
Brooke Harker
