From Retirement To Reinvention - A Personal Story

Retirement – My Path Towards It and My Journey Since Retirement.

For some, it’s a golden horizon shimmering with dreams of lazy mornings, exotic travel, and unhurried afternoons. For others, it’s a mysterious, slightly intimidating chapter where structure gives way to uncertainty. For me, it was somewhere in between — a carefully plotted transition that still managed to surprise me with its twists, turns, and unplanned detours.

This is not the kind of essay you’d expect from an academic journal or an elite lifestyle magazine. There will be no polished corporate jargon, no esoteric economic theory, and certainly no sugar-coating — unless you count the icing on the Coles cakes that kicked off this whole story. My version is a blend of personal anecdotes, questionable humour, and perhaps more detail about my laundry routine than you bargained for. Consider yourself warned.

The Spark That Lit the Story.

It began on a cold August morning — more “frosty dawn” than Neil Diamond’s Hot August Night — when my cousin Steven rang out of the blue. He was visiting Perth and suggested a catch-up. The next day found us at his sister’s place, demolishing cakes with enough sugar content to single-handedly boost Australia’s Type 2 diabetes statistics.

Between bites, Steven began moaning about the lack of readership for his blog. Apparently, his wife Jennifer, his sister Marisa, and I had all failed to even open the emails, let alone read the articles. In his view, this was a dereliction of family duty. He even floated the idea of giving out badges for participation — and being a sucker for a badge, I knew my fate was sealed. I would have to write something.

Driving home, I mulled over possible topics. “Friendship” came to mind — complete with Freud’s theories, Australian mateship, and a dusting of self-help wisdom. But reality intervened. I decided to follow the KISS principle (Keep It Simple, Stupid) and write about something I knew well: my own retirement journey.

Laying the Foundations — The Plan Begins.

Benjamin Franklin once said, “If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail.” That maxim resonated deeply when my wife Rita and I sat down in 2010, at the age of 50, to map out our retirement.

First priority: pay off the mortgage. At the time, the balance still loomed large. Rita, running her interpreting and translating business, took on extra work — often interstate, sometimes away for up to four weeks at a time. Every extra dollar went toward shrinking the debt, and by the end of 2014, we were mortgage-free.

Giving a room a facelift. (For illustration only)

Next came the house renovations. Our 1990s home, which had already passed through two owners before us, was due for a serious facelift. The kitchen, bathrooms, laundry, and colour scheme all reflected their vintage — and not in a trendy way. We also upgraded the outdoor living space, adding an alfresco area, limestone walls, lush lawns, and new plants. The logic was simple: do the major capital works while income was steady, so that in retirement only minor repairs would remain.

Third priority: superannuation. We made the bold decision to live entirely on Rita’s income, while my salary went straight into super through salary sacrificing. Along the way, we attended seminars to sharpen our financial knowledge — and, I’ll admit, to enjoy the free food and refreshments.

The Decision to Step Away.

By 2020, I was 60 and we reviewed our finances. The numbers looked good, but work had become a grind. Systems and processes were in constant flux, the atmosphere was toxic, and it was starting to affect my mental health. In June 2021, after 40 years in the public service — most of it in finance and accounting — I decided to retire. We were debt-free, had a sustainable superannuation balance, and our sons were fully grown, employed, and independent.

The First Days — Shedding the Uniform.

The first order of business was symbolic: ditching the grey cardigan, wide paisley tie, and battered leather briefcase. That briefcase had never carried state secrets — its most sensitive cargo had been two jam sandwiches and the day’s newspaper.

Rita wasn’t ready to retire, so I took over a larger share of domestic duties — cleaning, washing, ironing, and other household tasks. I even became Sous Chef to Rita’s Head Chef, managing grocery procurement and ingredient preparations.

Accidental Adventures — Cooking School.

My first unexpected retirement adventure came courtesy of Rita, who spotted an ad for a free nutrition and cooking course. She “suggested” I enrol — which, in practice, meant stealth-registering me while I was in the kitchen making tea.

Walking into the first class, I quickly realised I was the only man. When asked why I’d joined, I couldn’t admit I’d been railroaded, so I spoke about my “culinary curiosity.” To my surprise, I enjoyed the course immensely and left with recipe books, a healthy eating chart, and improved knife skills — though not quite up to MasterChef level.

Rediscovering Old Passions — Reading.

Reading had been a childhood joy, nurtured by Enid Blyton, Agatha Christie, and stacks of sci-fi and fantasy novels. In high school, I devoured Shakespeare, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Grapes of Wrath. But university replaced leisure reading with dry accounting and law textbooks, and work only reinforced the trend.

Man reading outdoors (For illustration only)

In retirement, I rediscovered the pleasure of books. Now I regularly borrow from the local library, alternating between crime thrillers by John Grisham or Michael Connelly, and literary works by Pulitzer and Booker Prize winners.

Tending the Garden — Literally.

Gardening became another retirement joy. I now have time to weed, plant vegetables, prune, fertilise, and simply stand with a hose in hand, watching the water flow. Friday evenings are reserved for Gardening Australia, and I harbour ambitions of making my backyard rival Singapore’s Gardens by the Bay — albeit on a smaller scale.

The Travel Chapter.

The first years of retirement were COVID-restricted, but once borders reopened, we ventured out. We toured Tasmania, marvelling at its rolling green hills and lakes. Later, Vietnam and Cambodia stole our hearts — Ha Long Bay and Angkor Wat were unforgettable, while the Cu Chi Tunnels and Killing Fields were sobering reminders of darker histories.

Colin and Rita in Angkor Wat, Cambodia (Supplied)

This year we visited Malaysia, returning to my hometown of Malacca with my cousin. We feasted on local delicacies, swapping stories from our youth and returning home heavier in both body and memory. Sri Lanka is on the calendar for later this year, and Spain, Portugal, and Morocco are pencilled in for 2026.

From Desk to Dumbbells — The Fitness Pivot.

The sedentary habits of my accounting years have been replaced with a regular exercise regime. I now attend cross-training and boxing classes four times a week, and I’ve even taken up long-distance running.

Fun runs and Saturday morning Park runs have become a family activity — though my two adult sons leave me behind within the first ten seconds. Even runners with dogs and fathers pushing prams seem to overtake me effortlessly, but I console myself with the fact that I’m out there moving.

The Social Network — Offline.

Social connection has been vital. I catch up with my fitness group for morning teas and Christmas lunches, have coffee after Monday workouts, and meet former work colleagues for lunch a few times a year — where conversation often veers morbidly to “who’s passed since last time” before shifting to raucous laughter over past workplace antics.

Old friends reminiscing and enjoying each other's company (For illustration only)

Each weekday, I also walk at 6 a.m. with my neighbours, Alf and Dale. Coming from three different continents, we cover a wide range of topics, though inevitably, we end up “whinging” about our adult children.

Reflections — Retirement as Reinvention.

People often think of retirement as the end of working life, but I’ve found it’s really the beginning of something new. It’s a shift from structured employment to a phase of greater self-determination, where days can be shaped around personal priorities rather than professional obligations.

Financial readiness is important, but so is psychological adjustment. Without purpose, retirees can feel adrift. For me, staying active, socially connected, and curious has been the key. Whether it’s tackling a new recipe, planning a trip, tending the garden, or catching up with friends, retirement has been an opportunity to explore and grow in ways that work never allowed.

Closing Thoughts.

If there’s a moral to my story, it’s this: plan well, but be ready to embrace the unexpected. Retirement is not a one-size-fits-all experience — it’s as unique as the person living it. For some, it’s grand adventures; for others, it’s simple pleasures. For me, it’s been a mix of both — with a dash of cake, a sprinkling of travel, and more than a few laughs along the way.

About the Author.

Colin and I on the day we discussed the possibility of him being a guest writer (Supplied)

Colin and I are first cousins on my mother's side. Colin's father was my mum's eldest brother. While we grew up in Singapore and migrated to Perth, Western Australia (WA), Colin's family lived in Malacca, Malaysia. When Colin was in his teens his family also migrated to Perth. After graduating from Murdoch University, Colin worked as an accountant at WA's State Treasury Department for over 40 years. Colin is married to Rita and have two sons, Peter and Rami.