When you’re feeling worried, it can be hard to learn.
I experienced this firsthand when I was an exchange student living abroad. When I was 16, I travelled to the south of Italy to live in a small village called Spinazzola.
This had been my dream, and my parents forked out over $2,000 to make it come true (thanks, Mum and Dad!).,
I wanted to make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I set off with an ambitious goal to come back fluent in Italian.
Before I left for Italy, several people had told me that I would pick up the language “just like that!”. I was told that I’d be fluent in no time.
I took their words as gospel truth.
So I became concerned when, after just a few days in Italy, I wasn’t speaking like the locals. I thought, “Why am I not fluent in Italian by now? What’s going on? Is something wrong with me?”
Panic and worry set in. I became stuck in an anxiety loop. Thoughts rolled through my head, such as:
“Am I learning the language fast enough?”
“Am I going to come back knowing enough?”
“How will I compare to the other Australian exchange students? What if my Italian sucks?”
This anxiety spilled over into almost every amazing experience I found myself in: a trip to the local pizzeria with my new friends from school, family dinners, and day trips with other exchange students.
To counteract my fears, I doubled down on my study, carrying a mini pocket Italian dictionary with me everywhere I went (this was well before mobile phones and Google Translate existed).
About a month into my student exchange experience, out of the blue, a young man snatched the pocket dictionary out of my hands.
This man was called Gianluca. He was my host sister’s 18-year-old cousin who had travelled with his parents from Milan to spend Christmas with my host family.
Gianluca was a character. He had wild, voluminous curly hair, a cheeky smile, and a sense of style.

Gianluca was also a slightly arrogant man. He would say whatever was on his mind, seemingly without caring if he upset or offended others.
For example, one of my first interactions with Gianluca was when I sat down on a stool, thereby exposing my white socks. He gasped loudly and said in Italian:
“Jane Christine, white socks with black shoes is a fashion crime! No, No, No!”
I took his words very seriously and have never repeated this fashion faux pas.
But it was the moment when Gianluca snatched the dictionary out of my hands that I remember more than anything else. This moment had a profound impact on the rest of my exchange experience, and I am deeply grateful to him for that.
Here’s how the situation unfolded . . .
It was late in the evening. A group of us had been talking and playing Italian card games. Remember, these were simpler times (there were very few mobile phones back in those days and no social media).
I was struggling to follow the conversation in Italian, so I picked up my dictionary to look up a word, but Gianluca stopped me. He grabbed hold of the dictionary and said:
“Put the dictionary down. You don’t need this! Just be here in this moment!”
Gianluca was trying to tell me to relax. To stop hiding behind my dictionary. To stop trying so hard to learn Italian.
He was right. Sometimes, when you try too hard and are too fixated on achieving a future goal, it can get in the way of actually doing what you need to do (in my case, learning Italian).
Oliver Burkeman writes about this in his book Meditations for Mortals. He argues that there are benefits in not trying so hard. He writes:
“The less I’m trying to get something out of an experience, the more I find I can get into it, and the more I can be present for other people involved.”
Those first few weeks in Italy, I had been trying too hard to master the language and get the most out of my student exchange experience. I was trying to frantically get to a place where I could tick the ‘Fluent in Italian’ box.
I can now see clearly that by trying so hard to learn Italian, I was sacrificing my enjoyment in the present moment. I was also undermining my ability to learn Italian.
Taking the pressure off myself
You’ve probably heard the phrase “La Dolce Vita”. This directly translates to “The Sweet Life”.
But what it means is a relaxed, easy-going approach to life. An approach where you enjoy the simple things: a hearty, simple meal shared with your family, a reviving nap in the middle of the day, and an evening stroll (‘passegiatta’) down the main street with friends.
Whenever I picked up my dictionary, which was frequently during those first few weeks in Italy, I embodied the polar opposite of “La Dolce Vita”. I transformed a potentially fun, rich moment into an anxiety-fuelled study session.
I also took myself out of the present moment. And effective learning (and living) is all about being present.
Gianluca’s words – “Put the dictionary down!” – hit home. That evening, I put my pocket dictionary away and gave up on trying to master Italian in a day. I took the pressure off myself and relaxed into the experience.
Soon after, I asked my host mother Rosa if I could join a local exercise class. I knew that movement always made me feel better. It relaxed me. I was so happy when Mamma Rosa agreed.
At this class, I’d slip on some special socks over my shoes and slide from side to side on a slippery mat (a slide board).
I took this crazy exercise class with a bunch of middle-aged Italian women wearing spandex and leg warmers (it was Winter). Occasionally, someone would lose control on their slide board and fall to the ground.
For 60 minutes, I was able to get out of my head and get grounded in my body. This exercise class, as strange as it was, made all the difference. It relieved my anxiety and fears straightaway. It calmed my mind and made me feel like I was doing okay.
Ironically, once I felt calmer and less pressured to ‘learn Italian’, I started to pick things up. Learning the language became easier and easier. It didn’t happen in an instant. But it was happening. Slowly but surely, my language skills improved.
When I came back to Australia, I hadn’t mastered Italian (can you ever really master anything?), but I could hold a solid conversation with my nonna in Australia.
The whole student exchange experience fundamentally changed me. I learnt so much more than just Italian.
So, what did I learn from my time in Italy?
I learnt the power of a good nap after lunch (strictly enforced by my host mother), the importance of connection and community, and that if you’re having pasta, you must mop up the last bit of sauce with some bread (this Italian tradition is called ‘scarpetta’).
But I also learned not to try so hard. Instead of rushing to get to a specific destination, it’s okay to just explore, learn, and grow at your own pace.
Image Credit
“Mappa ferr Spinazzola-Barletta” (Used in Image 1) by Arbalete is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0