A life (extra) ordinary

Time for a (re) introduction

Hello! I’m Monique and I write about the (extra) ordinary things that make my heart sing, taking time to live well and love my multi-passionate creative self.

---

Photo by Megan Clark on Unsplash

We are walking in a nearby park, my boss and I; it is a mild late summer morning with, dare I hope, the faintest hint of autumn in the breeze that skims my bare arms. Perhaps that is wishful thinking - March is historically the third hottest month in Perth - but what is not wishful thinking is the fact that I have officially resigned from my job. In three months, when my contract ends, I will be free to actively focus on my 2025 vow - more slow, less busy.

To continue pruning and growing.

To shift from busy-bee to being.

To no longer only write and create in the gaps of a too-busy life.

I’m so glad, she said as we walked under a canopy of reaching eucalypts. You were always so clear from the start that working full-time was not on the table. I’m glad you stuck to your guns. You look so much lighter today. I saw it the moment you walked in.

I feel lighter. It’s liberating, I say and we muse over the sacrifices and challenges the events role brings: long hours, heavy lifting, heat stress, little time for family, friends, ourselves. Burnout lurks at the edges of our selves, an ever-present threat.

Sometimes, she says, in this job you have a choice between catching up with your parents or giving yourself time to regroup and rest. But if you don’t make time to recover … her voice trails off. I sense a wistfulness under her words.

If you don’t rest, you fall apart, I nod, remembering the time I did just that. What I don’t say is that when I was writing my two novels in the gaps of life, it took up every spare moment too. There is always sacrifice of some sort. In our job, it is time, for ourselves and others. In my next season, it will be a wage. Overseas travel. Dinners out.

I agree to extend my contract for another month, so the recruitment process can take place. But I have an end date - the end of May. Our conversation moves to lighter things: baking, sewing, and why we aren’t interested in doing either for a living. We talk of creative experiences we’d like to try - she toys with learning how to make knives, while I dream of doing a watercolour course and running creative retreats for women once more.

You would be great at that, she says of the retreat idea. Maybe one day we’ll be paying you to run one.

Sunset over Rockingham Beach, Western Australia. End of summer 2025. Image: Monique Mulligan

In Perth, autumn comes on gradually, sliding into winter without much of a fuss; change is coming to my life in an autumn kind of way.

Some of this change is big and brave and blustery like an autumn wind - stepping back from paid work in my 50s, if not forever, for now.

In a world that celebrates busy and rewards productivity, I am choosing to take the road less travelled and live in a way that rebels against what our capitalist society promotes. To take time back from busy, 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. I’ve learned that a little time out does wonders for my creativity, for me.

And then there are the changes I am making in this space, small and gradual like the leaves changing colour outside my window:

• Regular readers may have noticed that the name of my Substack has changed from La Muse to A Life (Extra) Ordinary. When I started my Substack in 2023, I was desperate to reconnect with my creative self and my writing reflected this journey of play and healing. Over the past two years, this writing has evolved into essays about reconnecting with my whole self and how I want to live.

• La Muse posts are now found under the section called La Muse on my Homepage.

• The occasional foodie essay (those who know me know I love food - both the cooking and the eating).

• The occasional travel essay like this one from my visit to Nusa Lembongan in 2024.

• Future paid content including videos and workshops. I’m hoping to incorporate Prose and Convos, a community project I started at my previous job into this space.

To put it simply, I want this space to be a gift of time - a pausing to notice, to pay attention to the small things, both for myself, and for you. I hope you’ll come along as I embark on a journey back to basics, making time for rediscovery and reconnection with the “little girl” inside who sees the beauty in the extraordinary ordinary, the one who stops to pause and wonder. I’m making time for wandering, wondering, musing … and for the people and things that matter most to me in life. The simple things.

It won’t be easy. I’m conditioned to be busy. I have a lot to unlearn, especially my tendency to fill my moments with busy-ness. But I’m ready to try.

Join me as I rediscover what makes my heart sing: gatherings with loved ones, walks in the bush, travel, food, photography, writing, sewing and stitching, cooking, gardening. My hope is that you’ll find what makes your heart sing too.

As for what’s next … I am gathering ideas, sweeping them together in a notepad; within weeks I will be sweeping leaves as they drop from the apricot tree, gathering them in a pile for the compost, ready to enrich our soil.

So, welcome to A Life (Extra) Ordinary. If you like what you’ve read, please consider subscribing.

A Life (Extra) Ordinary is a gift of words and the main posts will continue to be free for all readers for the foreseeable future. However, if you feel led to support my writing, you can take out a paid subscription for a small monthly amount. Creating these posts takes time, and your ongoing support of my time and creativity is greatly appreciated.

Either way, I am grateful that you have chosen to be here today, to be part of my community of readers and writers pausing to notice. Let’s keep connecting as a community and building each other up.

PS. You might like these posts too.