The Practice Sessions: Monique Mulligan of A Life (Extra) Ordinary

stitch art and cloud gazing

I have some wonderful guests lined up for this summer as the Practice Sessions series and circle continues to grow. If you want to support this work while payments are suspended here in the Space, you can contribute here.

Hello beautiful human,

I always ask my Practice Session contributors to recommend others they think I should feature in this series and not one but two (!) writers recommended the lovely Monique Mulligan. Thank you Lisa Bolin and Rachel Shenk for encouraging me to read, reach out and get to know this wonderful human across the world from me. Monique writes in her introductory essay that she values the gifts of time—pausing, noticing, paying attention. I knew right away I’d discovered a kindred spirit. I’m delighted to share her voice here today.

Who am I? I’m Monique, woman, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend. Writer, author, creator, reader, observer, employee, encourager, diplomat. In different seasons, I may be one of these elements more than another, but all these labels make up the human I am. I am imperfect, indecisive, a people pleaser, sometimes impatient and sometimes tenacious; I am a recovering perfectionist, a perpetual busy bee, an empath and introvert who loves people but also needs space. It has taken me until now, in my early 50s, to understand, accept and connect with my true, multi-passionate self (I’m still learning about her).

At my heart, I’m a writer – my love language is Words of Affirmation. I’ve always been better at writing how I feel, rather than saying it (did I mention that I tend to be conflict avoidant?). For years I set aside the writer and creative in me – I was, as Julia Cameron describes in The Artist’s Way, a shadow artist. Hiding in the shadows, choosing parallel careers; using my creative gifts without really experiencing the joy of what they could be. Of what they could be for me. Putting the needs of others first rather than exploring my own. But one day, I stepped out of the shadows. The result (after five years’ writing in the gaps) was two published novels – Wildflower and Wherever You Go. And then, I lost my joy in writing. Starting my Substack newsletter in 2023, initially called La Muse but now titled A Life (Extra) Ordinary newsletter, was my desperate, vulnerable attempt to reconnect with my creative self on a joyful, playful level.

And here I am, two years on. Elizabeth Gilbert says in Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear”, “The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them.” These days, I’m on my own heroine’s journey, looking for these jewels of creativity and insight, and celebrating when I find them – in art, nature, sewing, cooking, writing and more.

The Five Questions for the Practice Sessions

What are your current fascinations?

I have always been a curious joy-seeker, but one of my biggest learnings is that I am happiest creatively when I’m doing what feels good, not what I think I should. There’s a magic in that moment, when you listen to what you want to do and go with it. This doesn’t work as well when you have deadlines (and I’m good with deadlines), but since I don’t, I can usually let go of the should-s and let my soul tell me what I need. There’s a magic in that moment. Today I might feel called to paint flowers, to soothe myself with slow stitching, or to cut up a tablecloth and turn it into a pretty top; tomorrow, I might want to write.

But despite trying to go with the flow when I can, there are some constants in what fascinates me: nature, travel, wildflowers, photography, walking in the bush or the mountains, people, food, the small details. And lately, I’m really enjoying creating new things from old – upcycling clothes, creating blackout poetry, using “found” pieces to inspire a new creative use. I love to reimagine things, to ask “What can I do with this?”

What does a “delicious day” consist of, for you?

A delicious day starts slowly and intentionally. There is time to linger, to notice, to feel. There is good food, laughter, conversation, love. A walk in nature, time to write or paint or sew; in summer, a sunset walk on the beach and in winter, a glass of wine around the fire pit, a blanket wrapped around me.

The most important thing is that there is no rushing. In a world that celebrates busy and rewards productivity, I am intentionally trying to be “more slow, less busy”. To make and take time to live well. To go gently and fall in love with life again, rather than going through the motions. To pause to muse about the beauty in simple, everyday life and the joy of creative play. When I do this, life feels delicious.

How do you take care of yourself?

I listen to my body. I know what burnout feels like – I spent six months off work recovering from it – and I don’t want to experience it again. So, when I feel overwhelmed, I step back from whatever I’m doing and go for a walk in nature. I do Pilates and weights to keep my body strong and healthy and, for the most part, I eat healthy food. And I love walking.

Running, not so much.

I’m learning to set boundaries and to accept myself, flaws and all. And when I need space, to restore and re-set, I do my best to give myself that space.

Mostly, I’m learning to slow down. I’m taking some time off work soon to go back to basics, to un-busy (this will be hard) and to further explore a slower way of living. To make time for wandering, wondering, musing … and for the people and things that matter most to me in life. The simple things.

We are the stories we tell. I’m curious if, at this point, you sense yourself moving into any new stories, or if there are stories you feel you’re recovering?

For the past year, I have felt myself shifting into a new season, not only of life, but of myself. I’m making peace with my multi-passionate self; for a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t want to settle for one creative pursuit. Deep down, I didn’t just want to write books, but I felt as if I had worked so hard to “brand” myself as a writer, that I had to be exclusive to it. Like I owed people – my followers on social media, my publisher, my writing community in Australia. That was such a confusing time, and I think that’s what sapped the joy from writing. I wanted to do other things, but I’d created such a strong narrative about who I was that the dissonance ached. Now, after plenty of pruning, I feel like I’m about to blossom, like I’m on the cusp of possibility.

I’m also a recovering perfectionist and I am working on unlearning this. A few years back, struggling with self-doubt and imposter syndrome, I felt a strong calling to write a poem called “I Am More”, which I later recorded and uploaded online.

Link:

Oh thank you for sharing that, Monique! Let’s follow through with a gratitude you’d like to bring into this space…a person, or a place, or something you’d like to express gratitude for who has helped you arrive at this moment.

I am ever grateful to my husband, who has sat in the pink throne beside my desk many times and listened to me moan about plots and characters and my inability to write anything worth reading. Without his support, belief and encouragement, I wouldn’t be leaving my job next month to “slow down” our lives and hopefully, write another book. Or paint.

Monique shared some of her current and favorite books with us, over at the delightful imaginary bookshop, and added these words:

I’m an avid reader and I usually have several on the go. This past year, I have found myself reaching for more non-fiction, particularly titles I have been recommended on Substack or written by writers I follow on Substack such as Beth Kempton. But I’ve always had a fiction title or two on my bedside table ... let’s be real, right now there are four.

Monique gifts us a lovely window into her stitchwork practice which invites us beautifully into her “more slow, less busy” day.

Thank you Monique for sharing your words, your voice, your example and practice with us here in the Practice Sessions.