She Strengthens

Living Beyond My Means in Brooklyn

I’m guilty of splurging on a luxurious lifestyle in Brooklyn, shelling out nearly half my monthly income to reside on a picturesque, brownstone-lined street. As I stroll through the neighborhood after dark, I catch glimpses of my neighbors’ lavish living rooms and dining areas, sprawling across entire floors – a far cry from the cramped, one-bedroom apartments in my building.

A Consolation Prize: Stoop Books

However, there’s a silver lining to living among the affluent – the treasure trove of stoop books. This Brooklyn phenomenon has inspired its own Tumblr, and for good reason. The concept is simple: residents leave their used books on the stoop, free for the taking. It’s a stroke of luck to stumble upon a great find, a small gift from the universe to compensate for the hefty price tag of living in this desirable neighborhood.

More Than Just Books

Stoops also play host to an array of discarded items, from coffee machines to men’s overcoats. I once scored a pair of glitter lace-up boots that fit a friend perfectly. But books remain the most captivating, offering a glimpse into the lives of their previous owners. Law school textbooks, for instance, likely belonged to someone who recently passed the bar or gave up trying. A book on pregnancy and childbirth probably came from a parent of a toddler.

Inventing Stories

As I browse through these abandoned books, I weave stories about their former owners. Who parted with a rare, out-of-print edition of Vocational Guidance by Astrology? Why did someone hold onto a shelf’s worth of woodworking and home design books until now? The possibilities are endless, and I’ll never know the truth. Meeting my neighbors and asking about their discarded books would be too intrusive, like rummaging through their trash.

A Glimpse into Strangers’ Lives

Stoop books offer a fascinating window into people’s interests and passions. I can infer that someone loves terrariums or has a toddler obsessed with pirates, but the details remain vague. It’s like peeking through their windows, catching a glimpse of their life without seeing the full picture.

The Art of Letting Go

I’m an avid declutterer, drawn to the calming effect of an uncluttered space. The tradition of stoop books resonates with me because it’s easy to let go of unwanted items, knowing they’ll find a new home. It’s liberating to release possessions that no longer serve me, and it’s satisfying to see my castaways being snatched up by others.

The Guilt of Letting Go

However, I understand why some people struggle with parting ways with their belongings. It’s hard to confront the fact that we didn’t need something in the first place. As I’m about to leave my apartment, I often pause, thinking about the money wasted on impulse purchases or items with no resale value. But I push on, promising myself I’ll be more mindful of my spending habits next time.

Stoop Karma

Occasionally, on my way home, I’ll stumble upon a book that catches my eye, left on someone’s front steps or propped against their fence. I like to think it’s because I’ve earned good stoop karma, and the street is rewarding me for my willingness to let go.