Angela Bigler

Accepting Our Whole Selves

I met Angela Bigler in Corie Feiner’s online Bodylove Poetry Workshop in February. She is a fearless poet who approached the subject matter of our bodies each week with energy, enthuiasm and humor. We wrote poems about our hands, hips, breasts, and bellies and shared them with a perfectly-sized group of nine. You can read more about Corie’s workshop here, and here, and here, and sign-up for the next workshop series. You can also read more of Angela’s work on her substack.

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Angela Bigler

Angela Bigler crafts magical words from her home in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. She loves poetry and all things Goddess. Her poems have been published multiple times in the yearly We'Moon datebook and calendar. Currently, she is working furiously on her first novel. Stop by and connect with her at AngelaBigler.com.

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My Belly by Angela Bigler

My portal
to Mother
who fed me

I hadn't considered
that sacred connection
because I can no longer
see the cord-

tied off, crumbled

and then you fed me
through my mouth

now
think of her mother
think of my daughter
think of the motherline
warm in my belly

the women nourishing
through the lifeline

my belly

this Fire I'm afraid of

what a delight when you lead
when you write your own line
you are full-moon howling
shifting shape,
pregnant with potential
with purpose

create,
nourish & fire
the energyline
every mother
the motherline
Great Motherline
of my center

Right now,
we are here
in this cauldron
digesting the day
Tending Fire

My Thighs by Angela Bigler

My thighs walked me
through the garden of 
Eden, Persephone’s 
underworld, cast out
and beaten with words

My thighs
“Thick as a pickle.”
a man at work says,
thirsty as a leech

He can go home
so my thighs can 
breathe
so they can be simply
muscle and bone
a kingdom of
strength

My thighs walked me
through seven hells and
back into heaven
landed me right
on the earth

They said, 
We are here
we are blessings
like trees
but with skin-covered
curves

You wouldn’t believe
what they’ve been through

I take that back,
I know you’d understand

My thighs−hot and burning
the mirror at yoga
thighs lifting and holding
and wanting and closing
now always knowing
what’s safe

but they walk
and they hold
and they sing

curvaceous protection
art and flesh moving
root and veins
fine motors, pillars
and pillows and strong

my thighs are heartbeats
they carry me forward
they used to do cartwheels
now mountain pose

my thighs are rooted
so deeply in earth
they see stars

PERIOD.

A strange word
like an ending  
but also 
a cycle

Nobody warned me,
PRE-menopause.
I thought I had more...
TIME
before things changed
again

The CHANGE

And isn't that what women are?

Change?

Isn't that what I am?

I was once an acrobat
with my leg up on the toilet seat
removing a messy period cup.
I liked to examine the blood,
MY BLOOD
 
I made this!

But let me tell you about
knife-edge headaches
and hard days at work
when my brain might have 
bled along with my clenched
uterus

It wasn't a WOUND
but it felt like it

I wasn't a wound
but I FELT like one

Ocean BIG feelings
and that is the 
wild GENIUS.
She unleashed what
could otherwise be
pushed deep down, 
invited the raging 
WILDFIRE

What if I were a wolf
in the woods under the
red moon?
Blood on my fur,
in the dirt?
Who would care?
It is NATURE.
She doesn't navigate
shame

Now, I'm the changed wolf,
howling again

I have to tell you - 
I abandoned my period.
Now, it's my history.
I take the hormones and
thank the dear Goddess I'm
functional

I skip the sugar pills

Don't even know if the 
flow would arrive 
if I let the headaches
resurface        

Dear Goddess,
I'm thankful for medicine.
This choice I can make
for myself

My BODY, 
my AGENCY,
new CYCLES, 
WILD days

Still HOWLING

Interview with Angela Bigler

When did you start writing and what inspired you?

My mother was an incredibly creative poet and even my earliest memories of our time together feel magical. The first poem I remember writing was titled, “My Little Dog Heidi.” Just thinking of that makes me smile.

Describe how you grew into the identity of a writer/poet?

I always identified as a creative and wanted people to see me that way. I would classify myself as a weird kid, a dreamer, someone who spent a lot of time in the woods or talking to her stuffed animals. My creativity was something for myself. I was an adult in my thirties when I shifted into the idea of being a “real writer.” I previously thought I needed a license or permission. Thankfully I was told and eventually believed that wasn’t true and began calling myself a writer.

How has your work changed over the years?

In the beginning I used writing as a way to get my feelings and experiences on paper and try to make sense of them. I did this through poetry and journaling and I still use this practice. Over the last ten years my writing found a rhythm and a focus. I write a lot about mothering, the Goddess, spirit, and nature. My poems are tighter and well-edited and I share them. I’ve been working on a novel for years and my writing constantly improves because its hard work and you have to keep going and learning. The draft I’m on now is the one I want to share with people when it’s polished. I believe in myself and my talent more than I ever have.

How often do you write? Do you have rituals or routines?

I write most days. I'm even writing in my head when I'm not writing.

When I really do my full routine it brings out the absolute best result. It’s often hard to stop myself and take the time but when I first meditate, tune into my body, and listen, I can get still and allow the muse to come rather than forcing out words. It’s better this way.

It’s often the case that I’ll dive write in and scramble down words while I’m holding my breath and then my neck hurts. Sometimes I also lie my head on the desk and complain for a bit. Then I start again.

What is your process for writing a poem?

I have notepads, journals, and pens scattered around the house and I write whatever comes to me. I’ll let it percolate and flow around and I get surprised by what emerges. The next step is to write it out in word where I edit. I do lots and lots of rounds of editing. I used to share work too quickly. I find it’s more satisfying to sit with it for bit.

Who are your favorite creatives? Who do you admire and why?

Wow! What a big question? I have a photograph of Mary Oliver with her dog, Percy, in my office and I always invite her to write with me. I am an anxious human with a busy mind and the way she sat quietly with nature in her work is what I seek in my own practice. Her poems are my church.

Elizabeth Gilbert inspires me because she’s such a champion of creatives and I feel lifted and strong every time I hear her voice. Her book, “The Signature of all Things” is one I’ve reread and listened to several times because of its gorgeousness. Another book, “Big Magic,” is an incredible resource.

I’m also in love with Neil Gaiman because of the way he turns things on their head and brings beauty to the darkness.

What are you reading/listening to these days?

A book that I already read and just listened to is, “The Starless Sea,” by Erin Morgenstern. It is a banquet of lush, dark, romance and books and libraries and magic. I am also inhaling poetry by Andrea Gibson. She’s incredible. The podcast, “Poetry Unbound” with Padraig O Tuama is so beautiful I often cry listening to it. For the necessary absurdity and laughter, I am listening to “Good Omens” by Neil Gaiman.

What inspires you? What do you do when you are stuck?

I am inspired by the trees and I do my best to listen to them on my walks. I also get lit up by getting out of my word brain and dancing around with the Goddess, making art, reaching out to my friends, and listening to the creatives I don’t know but inspire me. When I get back to my heart, I remember what's important and get back into the moment.

Do you have a funny story or anecdote about being creative?

When I describe myself as a writer people often say things like, “I don’t have a creative bone in my body.” I wonder what my creative bones look like. Probably bright and colorful.

What’s the best advice someone has given you about writing?

To value the process as much, if not more than the result. The worries about what people will think or whether or not it will be “successful” can cause paralysis. It’s process, not perfection.

What advice do you have for aspiring writers/poets?

Learn from other writers. Read. Listen. Accept help and feedback. Practice unconditional self-love. Give yourself grace when you forget these things. Start again. Also, you path will not look like anyone else’s, including what you thought it would be.

How has being a writer influenced the way you see the world?

I feel deeply. This sensitivity allows me to feel the connectedness of people, animals, nature, and spirit. I imagine what it’s like for the other person, for the tree and it allows me to see differently.

Any last thoughts or words of wisdom?

Hug yourself and say the nicest, most loving things you can think of to yourself. Do this as often as possible.

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