My 66-Year-Old Grandmother On Spending Your 20s With Purpose

‘Don’t work.’

We were sitting in our favorite Italian restaurant. It’s a fancy, yet not overly expensive place, where I usually take my family. It became the ‘family spot,’ with memories of long, deep conversations.

The place also has the best pizza in Moscow.

My grandmother looked at me wide-eyed, the way she does when she wants to make a point.

“Here’s what you don’t understand,” she said, fifteen minutes into our conversation. That’s usually the time she starts teaching me about life. (Yup, she is tough.) “In this period, from twenty to thirty, your main job is to –“

“Wait!” I yelled. “Wait. Don’t say anything else.”

I fidgeted with my backpack and pulled out an iPhone. It seemed so random yet perfect. This was how I would start my research. “Let me record you. This is for me. Promise.”

“No, no, I know you. You’re going to record me, and the next day, you’ll send it to all your social media accounts. I know you. No.”

“Please!”

“No.”

“Please. Just for me,” I said, pressing the red record button. “Repeat what you just said. About your twenties.”

My grandmother started laughing, making the waves on the record screen spike up and down, with that contagious laugh of hers. “Alright,” she suddenly became serious.

Then she continued slowly.

“I believe that in this period, from twenty to thirty, you must try to accumulate and build all possible human traits you want to have later in life. Focus on shaping a character. Build kindness. Attachment. Improve the mind. Grow spiritually. Become wholehearted –”

She paused for emphasis.

“And for the time being, don’t spend it all. Just accumulate. Because often humans spend everything they make, as soon as they get it.”

I stopped her. “But how can you spend something that’s not physical?”

“We get a salary and are eager to spend it. We learn something new and then start teaching it, give speeches, and we stop growing. We work. But it’s much better to accumulate things. Including the things we accumulate in our souls, minds.”

Shit, I thought. So this is why I haven’t been writing publicly for a while. I felt as if I was giving too much away when I need to accumulate. Perhaps that’s why all great writers are older. They have lots of ‘inner content.’

My grandmother went on.

“Try not to work too much during this period. It’s good to have a part-time job that pays the bills. But don’t work full-time. The full-time job will ask for your full attention. And your inner growth will stop, stagnate. You’ll have time for that later.”

Don’t work in your twenties? Wow. Now here’s somebody who had read my last book! (She didn’t, nor does she need to. She could write bestsellers herself.)

“The full-time job will ask for your full attention. And your inner growth will stop, stagnate. You’ll have time for that later.”

Grandmother looked at me to see whether I was taking this all in. I took a pizza bite, waiting for her to continue. Cheese dripped on my T-shirt. My grandmother didn’t notice.

“Also, don’t plan your life. At all. Only make plans for the day. Plan the next day in the evening, and that’s it. You are growing spiritually — that’s your plan for the next decade. When I say ‘grow spiritually,’ I don’t mean write a long list of books to read. No. Follow your curiosity. You can’t grow your soul with lists. Just try things. Climb Mount Everest. Go live in the woods on $1 a day. Travel. Try as many things as you can—difficult things. Live in cheap hostels. Learn to live frugally. And then, by 30, you’ll wake up and realize that you can take everything. You’ve tried so much; there won’t be any fear. You’ll know you’ll do everything. You’ll become invincible.”

Yes. We should all go on a journey. Explore. Ourselves and the world. When else are we going to have a time like that? That’s the point of your twenties, if there is a point at all.

“You can’t grow your soul with lists.”

“And one last thing. Your generation likes success early. You see it on Instagram, everywhere. But it’s like having a beautiful suitcase with no luggage inside. It’s beautiful but fragile. Empty. Whereas if you postpone success and fill your soul and mind up as much as possible, your success will have substance. It will be earned spiritually. And nobody will be able to take it away since you know you can do it again. It won’t be luck.”

“So what can we do? Practically speaking.” I asked in my interview voice. But I noticed that grandma forgot she was being recorded at all.

“The only thing you can do is make yourself stronger. And you become stronger by going through uncomfortable things. Scary things. Uncertain things. Like, taking $5 and moving to the countryside, to live like a hermit. You don’t know what’s going to happen. You don’t know where you’ll get food for $5. Now that’s the challenge.”

“Wow,” I said, taking it all in, glad I recorded it all. Part of me already knew that I had to go on a journey like that. Take me out of my comfort zone and do something crazy. Or maybe a few somethings.

Every time I meet grandma, I consciously remind myself that cancer has a history of returning after a while. Hers was over five years ago. She is 66 now, soon to be 67. You never know how much she has left. And that’s why I cherish each moment.

I took her hand. “Thanks for this.”

She smiled.