Send For Me
Seminar: What I learned from the bower birds
It was 2020, the peak of summer lockdown. I was spending most afternoons drifting aimlessly; micro-dosing mushrooms, trying to make math happen in order to properly dose homemade edibles (did not manage to successfully math — I am a humanities gal through and through), doing cartwheels in the park by my house, stealing grapes from the trellises of vines in people’s front yards, cooking elaborate dinners for myself and my housemate, baking ungodly amounts of scones, and experimenting with content production.
Accidentally getting too high…repeatedly
Evidence of proposed math on the wall.
So. Many. Scones
Neighborhood grape thief caught on camera!
One evening, while mellowing out in bed after another day of mushrooms and sunny walks, I noticed a documentary about birds of paradise. I snuggled deeper under the covers and hit play.
The documentary focused on various birds and their mating rituals. Some birds dance for hours to attract a mate, doing a series of complicated steps, hoping to impress one special lady. One such bird must ensure that he never sits higher than the female bird; his position is always lower on the branch. He must also take pains to clear out his court of all sticks, leaves, and debris. The care and consideration taken must be up to snuff for the female birds to even glance his way.
But my favorite bird by far was the bowerbird. Bowerbirds are a family of birds that specifically build structures to attract a mate. They take painstaking time to craft something intricate and worthy of attention. They work tirelessly, with fervor.
One particular bird in the documentary had spent seven years building a bower for his future wife, and still had not found her. His neighbor would occasionally even come to sabotage him, stealing sticks and setting back his progress. Yet, he never gave up.
Something about these tiny birds working so hard struck a chord in me. Maybe it was his ceaseless eagerness. Maybe it was his optimistic drive. Maybe it was the way he seemed to want to take care, so badly, of his bower, and what that would mean for his future mate.
Years of studying feminism and trying to be an empowered woman had taught me that I should be able to take care of myself, to never need a man, to rely on my own strength. While I’m not ready to throw all that away, I have to come to appreciate the archetype of the man-as-provider, the man as taking care, the man as stepping up to show me just what he’s capable of.
The bowerbird embodies all that is attractive to me in a man:
attention to detail
optimistic positivity
careful, hard work
dedication to building something just right
There is a humility and affection that is so attractive in this bird’s ritual. His patience is a virtue, his architectural prowess a sight to behold.
I find more and more that I am drawn to these types of men: the men who like to prepare for a woman’s arrival, who patiently and ardently craft just the right container for her to be able to relax. Drawing her in and giving her a place to be comfortable, so she can reward him with the utmost affection and attention.
I choose you, she might say.
If only he shows his devotion.
ALSO! My course load this month is out of control, so for September I am only accepting dates on Friday evenings in San Francisco. Fed & Fucked Fridays are back and better than ever, baby. See you over candlelight!
xo
Simone