The Saturday Letter: A bright yellow suitcase.
#005: Is anyone else overwhelmed and underwhelmed by everything?
Hello from 2025, and yet another seat. This time, a train seat. It’s not 23A. In fact, it’s not numbered at all. But it’s as anonymous and plain as I feel lately.
“It’s kind of funny to start a new year in the cloudy pith of winter,” Aiden Arata recently wrote. “Apparently, the earliest Roman calendars—on which the modern western calendar is based—celebrated the new year in March, when light leaked into the evening hours and spring planting began. In a nod to the power of their inscrutability, the winter months didn’t even have names.” The Romans must have been onto something, because that’s how this stretch of time feels: nameless.
Ever since I returned to New York after the holidays, the city has a different edge. Even compared to years past. Everything seems colder, including the people. I don’t know if it’s because I’m looking for it, or because it’s actually there.
On the way to my annual writing weekend with my friend Tatyana, I lugged my bright yellow suitcase down the subway stairs and up three more flights on the way to the Amtrak station. Someone almost always offers to help carry heavy items like luggage or strollers; an unspoken rule of the city. But no one so much as looked at me. I became more angry with each person that passed by. When the anger dissipated, I realized what I really felt was lonely. I wondered if that made me entitled, observant, or honest.
I waited for 20 minutes in the middle of the station for my track number to appear on the screen. The anticipation kept my eyes attuned to my surroundings instead of my phone. An Amtrak employee saw me and waved me over.
He asked me if I was lost. I pondered if this was because he wasn’t used to someone looking around rather than at their phones, or if it was because he sensed what I was really feeling; the real directionless within me heading into this year.
Before I could answer his first question, he asked me where I was going. I told him, and he said he was going to put me first in line. When it was time to descend the boarding stairs, he asked if he could carry my suitcase. I thought about his hawk-eyed, hyper-specific kindness for a long time.
I guess I am a bit lost, thinking about all that is metaphorically and physically burning at once. Thinking about our oceans rising, unprecedented storms brewing, the world young people are being raised in and raised by, the general lack of empathy, the unending busyness. I’m lost thinking about when (and how) to take action and when (and how) not to; if I should turn on the news even when it’s hard to look or if I should turn it off indefinitely. I’m thinking about the people who have passed me while I struggled, and all the people who are struggling that I’ve passed myself. I’m thinking about attention; about what we don’t pay attention to, and how that lack of attention always manifests into something bigger.
I typically enter the new year sure and excited. This year, I couldn’t seem to access or conjure that. Likely, because, for the first time in a while, the things I’m hoping for aren’t fully in my control. I’ve turned over intentions and tried on words (creativity, release, acceptance, to name a few). Nothing seems to fit like it did around this time 365 days ago.
So I have to remind myself: That’s okay. I am reminded by God and the universe of the humbling act of waiting — patiently, diligently, loyally — for help, for kindness, for better, for what’s coming into focus to take its time.
“Honor the real essence of the season,” Arata continued in her essay, “which is liminal and illegible and strange. Hold onto nothing; something new is coming; you don’t always have to take shape.”
As always, thanks for being here. What are you thinking about lately? Any hopeful bright-yellow-suitcase moments you want to share? Message me or leave a comment. See you at the bottom.
Buckle up. We started Hacks and I am totally utterly entirely enamored. The Traitors is unmatched. Bob The Drag Queen shouting “Not a good one!” at Zac Efron’s brother after he said he grew up with an actor … I’m wheezing! I really enjoyed Back In Action with Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx, and despite what I’ve heard about it, I liked Emilia Pérez, too. Deal or No Deal Island is as bad as it looks, lol, but I will watch anything with Parvati. And Sweethearts was a flop. Straight people ruined a perfectly good story once again!
I’m on a podcast kick right now, but nothing heavy. Just LadyGang for some much needed levity. It has become somewhat of a tradition for Tatyana and me to write to piano covers of Taylor Swift album during our retreat (last year was folklore and evermore on repeat), and 2024 me is shaking her head but TTPD on piano slaps.
I’ve read them all out of order, but I just finished one of Lucy Foley’s earlier murder mysteries, The Hunting Party. It was one of the better ones out of the four I’ve read! The season of reading before bed is in full swing and I am loving each cozy moment. Any comfy reading recs?
I usually list out a few items I was gifted or sent to try, and last issue I did a mini gift-guide with tried-and-true products I’ve loved using, wearing, and giving this year. But I want to go in the complete opposite direction this time and talk about some good ol’ fashioned ideas or ideals I want to try on, instead! In a recent newsletter,
mentioned “treating my phone like a landline — keeping it in one location (a cupboard in my office) and going to visit it versus carrying it around all the time.” I’m yearning to implement what has also recently talked about: reminding herself during periods of transitions of the idea of happiness vs. wholeness, and “how life is about embracing a complete range of experiences.” Aminatou Sow recommended hanging fresh eucalyptus in the shower, which I love doing! But I’ve never thought about her specific advice, which is to “roll it with a rolling pin or wine bottle to release the oil.” I will be trying. Genius!
“Ask me about my…”
To celebrate 500 of you wonderful people wanting In Deep in your inbox (read: tolerating me talking about things like Taylor Swift and why Queen Latifah needs to make a return to rom coms and why Holes and Matilda are superior films), I didn’t want a cake or a balloon. I wanted to talk to you!
“In the last week, I’ve gone from not understanding mutual aid to realizing that it’s vital. We rely on each other to survive. While I might be the one helping today, there will be a time and there have already been times where I’ve needed help. In the last week, I’ve learned that there is no individual security without collective security. While optimizing our personal finances might insulate us from some loss, it cannot protect us from the collective ones, like the loss of community. We’re starting to see the limits of our individualism.”
-Paco de Leon
Thank you again for reading, sweet friend. Ciao for now. 🤍
Hi there! My name is Mia Brabham Nolan and I’m a writer by day and by night, currently living in New York City. I write In Deep with Mia Brabham Nolan, the entertainment, music, and culture Substack newsletter. I’m on Instagram @yourstrulymia. Leave a comment with your thoughts or saying hi and I’ll always respond. Thanks for reading :)
These are always so beautifully put together, written, sequenced, and shared. I often read several times, because there is just so much juiciness. Thank you (and yes, overwhelmed and underwhelmed here also - raised hand).
I feel like there is so much I could say! It really is true that nothing lasts forever, and patience is a virtue. For what it’s worth, this season is already teaching you some beautiful things. In a world that’s so busy and full of distractions, it’s meaningful to survive the doldrums. To sit with oneself and recognize the fog. To not fear the gray because it will clear.