The Great Sell-Down: What Downsizing Teaches You About Yourself

This week, we started selling our stuff.

Not all of it. Not yet. But enough to make the house feel slightly unfamiliar, which is an odd sensation when you've lived somewhere long enough to stop seeing it. The bed frame that no longer fit the smaller space. The garage shelf we always meant to sort through.

We're downsizing. A 210 square metre townhouse to a 50 square metre apartment. The maths is unambiguous: most of what we own cannot come with us.

It's a practical exercise in confronting a truth most people prefer not to examine too closely. We have accumulated an extraordinary amount of stuff. And almost none of it, it turns out, was truly necessary. Not when space is no longer a luxury.

There's a principle in physics – attributed to Aristotle, repopularised by everyone who has ever renovated a house – that nature abhors a vacuum. Give a space an empty corner, and the corner will be filled. Give a house a spare room, and the room will accumulate. Give a life twenty years of income and stability, and the drawers will quietly fill themselves with things that seemed important enough to keep at the time.

We are, apparently, no exception. It didn’t help that I am a tinkler, so most things can go to the “I-could-use-that-next-time“ box. The Wife mistakes that and just thinks that I am a hoarder.

What surprises me is not the volume of things – I suspected it was bad – but my relationship to them when they're lined up for sale. Some things I thought I'd struggle to part with turned out to be easy. Others I didn't expect to care about have required a moment. The distinction doesn't map cleanly onto price, or age, or usefulness. It maps onto memory. The things that hold a moment, a person, a version of life that mattered – those are the ones that give you pause.

Everything else is just filling vacuum.

I've been thinking about what this has to do with retirement, which is the general neighbourhood this newsletter inhabits. And I think the connection is this: downsizing, in the physical sense, turns out to be excellent preparation for a different kind of downsizing that retirement often requires. The stripping back of identity-by-accumulation. The letting go of the career title, the busyness, the sense that productivity is proof of worth.

We accumulate roles the same way we accumulate kitchen appliances. Senior manager. Committee member. Person who is always available and always busy. And at some point – either by choice or by circumstance – those things have to be put out for sale too.

The physical version of this is harder than I expected and easier than I feared. I suspect the other kind works the same way.

There's also something clarifying about the exercise. When you know that 160 square metres of your life has to go, you stop agonising over most individual decisions. The question isn't "do I like this?" It's "can I imagine my life without it?" And when the answer is obviously yes – as it almost always is – the thing goes.

I wonder if retirement planning benefits from the same reframe. Not "what will I give up?" but "can I imagine a good life without it?" Applied to work, to status, to the pace of a particular kind of life – the answer is almost certainly yes. But it's a question most people don't ask until the physical move is already underway.

We're not done yet. There are a few more large furniture and the garage, more marketplace listings to prepare, and approximately one hundred decisions to make about things that have been quietly occupying space we didn't know we were giving them.

But the apartment is starting to feel possible. And possible is a good place to start.

Have you downsized, or are you thinking about it? What surprised you most?

👉 Hit reply and share your thoughts – I’d love to hear what’s resonating with you.

☕ If these Sunday reflections are worth something to you, consider buying L-Plate Retiree a coffee on Ko-fi.

The Power of Consistency – Establishing Regular Contributions

Alright, L-Plate Retirees! You've picked your investment partner, opened your account, and even made your first investment. Now, how do you keep that momentum going and build real wealth over time? The secret lies in Establishing Regular Contributions – making investing a consistent habit. This is where the magic of compounding, a concept we touched upon in Foundations of Investing, truly shines.

Think of it as 'paying yourself first,' a golden rule in personal finance that we likely discussed during Personal Financial Assessment. Instead of investing what's left over, you prioritize your investments by setting aside a portion of your income regularly, ideally right after you get paid.

The beauty of regular contributions, especially when automated, is that it helps you practice Dollar-Cost Averaging (DCA). This fancy term simply means investing a fixed amount of money at regular intervals (e.g., $100 every month), regardless of whether the market is up or down. As we learned in Risk and Return Fundamentals, market timing is incredibly difficult, even for seasoned pros. DCA takes the guesswork and emotion out of the equation:

• When prices are high: Your fixed amount buys fewer shares.

• When prices are low: Your fixed amount buys more shares.

Over time, this strategy can lead to a lower average cost per share and helps smooth out the volatility of the market, aligning perfectly with our Risk Management strategies.

Automating your contributions is key to consistency. Most investment platforms allow you to set up automatic transfers from your bank account to your investment account on a schedule that suits you (weekly, bi-weekly, monthly). This removes the temptation to spend the money elsewhere and ensures you're always putting your money to work.

L-Plate Takeaways:

• Pay Yourself First: Make investing a priority by setting up regular contributions.

• Embrace Dollar-Cost Averaging: Invest a fixed amount regularly to smooth out market fluctuations and reduce risk.

• Automate Everything: Set up automatic transfers to ensure consistency and remove emotional decision-making.

• Consistency is King: Small, regular contributions add up significantly over time, thanks to the power of compounding.