Retirement Is a Time to Downsize—and Not Just Stuff
On the one hand, we’re systematically labeling which things to get rid of, and when. But we’re also downsizing our ambitions.
On the one hand, we’re systematically labeling which things to get rid of, and when. But we’re also downsizing our ambitions.
The first year in retirement is often the most difficult. But it also can set the stage for how you’ll fill the years ahead—both financially and psychologically. Stephen Kreider Yoder, a longtime Wall Street Journal editor, joined his wife, Karen Kreider Yoder, in retirement a year ago. In this monthly Retirement Rookies column, the 66-year-olds chronicle some of the issues they are dealing with early in retirement.
In the kitchen, I look up at my woven companions—16 baskets atop the cabinets. They’re from a dozen countries, and they radiate warm memories.
But wait, do I need so many baskets? And 40 more are around the house, many as decorations or stored in closets.
I’m trying to get rid of stuff methodically early in retirement, and it’s beginning to feel like a steady job. There’s no urgency. But when the time comes for a smaller place, I want to be ready. That time could come any time.
I want to winnow our possessions before there’s a health crisis or moving van at the door, while I can do the hard work of organizing and categorizing, of identifying what I need long-term, what to disperse and what to pitch.
It’s partly psychological. As I age, I find I have less room in my head to keep track of things. And the sheer numbers of some possessions create a growing mental tension.
We were ahead of the game when we retired. We moved a dozen times in 44 years, each time purging a bit. Helping our parents downsize inspired us often to do a sweep of our own when we got home.
Now that we’re both retired, I’ve created some downsizing categories to keep me from being overwhelmed:
• Don’t use it, don’t need it. Old electronics and orphaned cords. Knickknacks without sentimental value. My 20 thimbles from around the world, only one of which I ever use. The 150 beautifully sharpened No. 2 pencils in a row of blue-and-white ceramic pots, one labeled “Pencil Collectors Society.”
I’ll use perhaps a dozen pencils the rest of my life. The others can be off to Goodwill now, along with everything else in this category.
• Things we use now but won’t in a smaller space. Some of the guest-room furniture, extra chairs, large house plants, the piano, a rusty wheelbarrow. We should do an inventory now and label what we’ll ditch when we move.
• Stuff only I can handle. My childhood report cards, recital programs, work accomplishments, letters and such are a priority for thinning out now. Nobody else can make sense of them, but it can feel like throwing away bits of myself.
“But Mom, you have to save all of that,” says our son Isaac. “It’s like your personal legacy.” Maybe I’ll keep more than I intended, for our boys to root through as a window into my youth. (But, I wonder, will they really care about those report cards?) At least, though, I should organise it.
• Family heirlooms and mementos. These, too, are hard to part with, imbued with family history and shared memories.
We aren’t antiquers, but we do have a few elegant old Japanese tansu cabinets the kids grew up with. And I have about 25 quilts, some I made starting at age 7, and many from family and friends. They are works of art and full of memories but too many to fit in a condo.
The boys say they want some but are still too mobile, so at least I should make a plan for who gets what.
• Things I want by my side through older years. Family photos. My Japanese pottery. Journals from our travels. My quilt frame.
And baskets. I have always cherished handmade baskets. My first is from South Dakota, where at 16 I learned willow-basket making from two local weavers. I can’t part with it.
When our son Levi is home, we eat sticky rice with our fingers out of little lidded Laotian rice baskets, recalling Laos when he was age 2 and clutched his sticky-rice basket as we bicycled around Luang Prabang.
In our guest-room closet is a Japanese backpack basket—a gift from a student’s family—whose weaver was a Japanese National Treasure. In my reading room is a basket we bought in a Philippines market in 1987, not knowing it was for a baby until locals pointed and laughed knowingly. It became a bassinet to our three babies, and it’s a treasure.
Five dozen baskets is too many now. How many is just enough?
A classical guitar in its case stares at me from a corner of the bedroom. “Play me,” it taunts, and I look the other way.
Maybe it’s time I got rid of my lonely 1972 Alvarez Yairi as part of our gradual downsizing.
A tougher thought: I should probably also downsize my pipe dream of someday playing a guitar even moderately well, along with dozens of other unrequited ambitions I’ve clung to for decades. And I’ve got a few erstwhile passions I might best surrender now as well.
Karen talks of ditching stuff, and I’ve got plenty of boxfuls to sacrifice—textbooks, decrepit power tools, hardware that definitely might come in handy some time.
I also should release one or both of my vintage Honda motorcycles, which I’m sentimentally attached to but haven’t ridden in ages.
But for me, downsizing is more than getting rid of stuff. It’s about getting rid of conceptions of myself—of who I was, who I am and who I want to be.
That is, I should sell my motorcycles not just because they take space, but also because I think I’ve permanently moved on from motorcycling, my passion for decades starting at age 12.
Same with my skis and skiing.
Retirement has had a way of giving me permission to begin letting go—of my professional identity, my urge to do financial planning without help, the delusion that I’ll be fit forever. That permission makes it a good time for some wanna-do triage.
There are things I still intend to get to, now that I have more time. I want to weld better, brush up my Spanish, improve my swimming, study more history and learn to drive an 18-wheeler. There are activities we’re already stepping up, like traveling more in Africa, cycling around America, visiting family and seeking long-term volunteering opportunities that match our skills.
But finding time for all of it requires that I liberate other I-will-get-to-its that are increasingly a mental burden. I will probably never learn Arabic and should forgive myself of that, and French. I can get rid of the beer-brewing equipment I bought when I was 23 and discharge the notion that I’ll ever learn to use it.
I will probably never write a book; may I free myself from that weight? I hereby declare I can die happy enough without visiting Machu Picchu, the Galápagos or Rome as I’d once hoped to do. There are plenty of other places we want to go, and not time for everywhere.
Our house is a standing to-do list of fun projects I’ve put off and may never get to—or shouldn’t, lest I fall off a ladder and meet an untimely demise. Let’s just release some of those projects, too.
When I bought the Alvarez in 1981, my guitar teacher said I had talent. His kind words kindled my decades-long conviction that I would learn to play it well, eventually. We moved to Japan the next year, and I took along the guitar but didn’t find a teacher—temporarily, I told myself.
The guitar moved with us many times until 2012, when Karen bought me lessons with a fabulous teacher for my birthday and I began learning again. I did pretty well, even playing in a few modest recitals. But I dropped it—temporarily, I said—when we moved out of town for a year.
Now there it sits. It’s time to set it free.
Or is it? I finally have the bandwidth. I just opened the case, and only one string is broken, a good omen. Maybe this time I really can learn to play it.
For Central Element, the start of work at Pearl represents another step in the company’s growing eastern suburbs pipeline.
All three vehicles will form part of a broader charitable initiative benefiting Big Brothers Big Sisters of America, the American Red Cross and Starlight Children’s Foundation
Overall, the season showed that share prices react less to whether profits rose or fell than to the gap between results and expectations
Reporting season has once again reminded investors that a strong profit does not guarantee a rising share price, and a large loss does not always trigger a sell-off. What matters most is how each result compares with expectations and, increasingly, what management says about the year ahead. During the August 2026 season, companies offering credible turnarounds or unexpectedly strong guidance were rewarded handsomely, while those flagging weaker margins, slowing demand or greater uncertainty were punished.
The following ranking draws on Morningstar’s review of 164 ASX-listed companies and measures each company’s share-price movement on the day it reported. This captures the market’s immediate response to the earnings announcement, before subsequent economic developments, dividends and company-specific news cloud the picture. Here are the five biggest winners, and the five hardest-hit losers, of the season so far.
Bapcor delivered reporting season’s largest relief rally after presenting early evidence that its troubled automotive-parts business was stabilising. Although underlying revenue fell 1.8% to $1.92 billion and underlying NPAT collapsed 85% to $10.8 million, underlying EBITDA of $152.5 million exceeded guidance.
More importantly, working-capital initiatives released $68.5 million in the second half, lifting cash conversion to 109.4% and reducing net debt by 63% to $135 million. The statutory loss was $431.6 million, largely because of non-cash impairments. Investors focused on improving operational momentum, stronger liquidity and management’s expectation of modest FY27 revenue growth.
Zip comfortably surpassed its FY26 targets, sending the buy-now-pay-later provider’s shares sharply higher. Transaction volume rose 23% to $16.7 billion, while cash earnings before tax, depreciation and amortisation jumped 58% to a record $268.9 million. Statutory profit climbed 46% to $116.4 million, and the cash operating margin expanded by 4.2 percentage points to 20%.
The strongest signal was guidance for FY27 cash earnings of $340 million—around 26% growth and above analysts’ forecasts. US transaction volume increased 42.5% and now represents three-quarters of group volume, offsetting weaker customer activity in Australia.
CSL’s result was hardly spectacular in isolation, but it cleared a market bar that had fallen dramatically following earlier downgrades and restructuring announcements. Underlying NPATA was US$3.1 billion, down 2% in constant-currency terms, while operating cash flow reached US$3.51 billion.
CSL maintained its full-year dividend at US$2.92 per share and completed a A$1 billion buyback. The real catalyst was FY27 guidance for approximately 5% underlying profit growth, compared with market expectations closer to 2%. After an extended period of earnings disappointments, investors interpreted the outlook as evidence that CSL’s core plasma business was approaching a sustainable recovery.
Judo Capital demonstrated strong operating leverage as its specialist business-lending franchise expanded. Full-year profit before tax rose 34% to $168.1 million, while pre-provision profit increased 42%. Gross loans and advances grew 18% to $14.7 billion, reaching the top of the bank’s guidance range and comfortably exceeding broader system growth.
Deposits increased 24% to $12.2 billion, return on equity improved by 1.1 percentage points to 6.4%, and earnings per share rose 29% to 9.9 cents. Reaffirmation of the FY27 outlook gave investors confidence that loan growth could continue without sacrificing margins or credit quality.
The owner of Supercheap Auto, rebel, BCF and Macpac reported record sales of $4.2 billion, up 3.2%, despite cautious discretionary spending. Profitability went backwards: normalised profit before tax fell 7% to $306 million and normalised NPAT declined 2.8% to $226 million as transformation spending weighed on margins. Nevertheless, the result exceeded subdued expectations, online sales grew 5.3% and membership across the group’s loyalty programs reached 13.1 million. Investors were also encouraged by positive early FY27 trading, stable gross margins and continued market-share gains. A fully franked 33-cent final dividend added to the appeal.
Hansen’s historic result met expectations, but investors recoiled from its outlook. The utility and communications software provider achieved an underlying EBITDA margin of 31%, exceeding its 30% target, while generating strong cash flow. However, management designated FY27 an “investment and transition year”, signalling a roughly five-percentage-point margin contraction as spending on products, sales capabilities and organisational changes increased.
Revenue had already been broadly flat, leaving investors concerned that the investment program would depress earnings before new growth appeared. Leadership changes, including the chief executive’s departure, added uncertainty. Management expects revenue growth and margins above 30% to return in FY28, but the market was unwilling to wait.
Life360’s headline growth was impressive: quarterly revenue rose 38% to US$159 million, subscription revenue increased 31%, and adjusted EBITDA climbed 53% to US$31.1 million. Monthly active users reached 102.4 million and paying circles grew 27% to 3.2 million. The sell-off reflected expectations rather than a collapsing business.
Net income fell 18%, the net margin contracted from 6% to 3%, hardware shipments dropped 18%, and full-year EBITDA guidance was merely maintained. After a strong valuation run, investors wanted a larger upgrade and clearer evidence that heavy investment in advertising, international expansion and artificial intelligence would generate additional earnings.
PEXA reported a 7% increase in continuing-operations revenue and 12% EBITDA growth to $152 million, accompanied by a two-percentage-point margin expansion. Free cash flow increased 39%, suggesting the core Australian electronic-conveyancing platform remained highly profitable. Investors instead concentrated on management’s warning that property-transfer volumes could decline, alongside regulatory uncertainty surrounding the fees PEXA can charge.
The company is also continuing to invest heavily in its loss-making international expansion. Morningstar considered the market reaction excessive, arguing that structural transfer-volume assumptions had not materially changed, but the combination of softer near-term activity and regulatory risk overwhelmed the respectable headline numbers.
SEEK produced solid FY26 figures, including 10% revenue growth to $1.20 billion, a 15% rise in EBITDA and 28% growth in adjusted earnings per share. It also lifted its fully franked annual dividend by 13% to a record 52 cents. Those achievements were overshadowed by falling paid job-ad volumes and cautious FY27 assumptions.
The statutory accounts included a $201 million loss from the SEEK Growth Fund and $377 million of significant items, making the headline result considerably less attractive. Investors were particularly concerned that economic weakness could limit volumes while the company continued investing in platform integration and artificial-intelligence products.
JB Hi-Fi’s full-year result was broadly respectable, with group sales rising 5% to $11.1 billion and underlying earnings per share increasing 6% to $4.48. The damage came from its current-trading update. Australian sales were almost flat during the June quarter and deteriorated further in July, while earnings in the core Australian electronics business fell 3.6%.
Housing-related categories were particularly weak as higher living costs and interest rates constrained household budgets. With JB Hi-Fi entering the season on a demanding valuation, an in-line historic result was not sufficient: the loss of sales momentum prompted investors to rapidly reduce their expectations for FY27.
Overall, the season showed that share prices react less to whether profits rose or fell than to the gap between results and expectations. Bapcor was rewarded for being less troubled than feared, while several fundamentally profitable companies were punished because their outlooks failed to justify elevated valuations.
As interest rates, inflation and market sentiment fluctuate, investors are being urged to focus on data, not panic.
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