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I maintain the conviction that it is forever an option to transform. I think you truly can instruct a veteran learner, on the condition that the old dog is open-minded and eager for knowledge. So long as the individual in question is willing to admit when it was mistaken, and strive to be a improved version.

Well, admittedly, I am that seasoned creature. And the lesson I am trying to learn, despite the fact that I am a creature of habit? It is an important one, something I have struggled with, frequently, for my entire life. My ongoing effort … to develop a calmer response toward the common huntsman. Apologies to all the remaining arachnid species that exist; I have to be realistic about my potential for change as a human. The focus must remain on the huntsman because it is imposing, dominant, and the one I encounter most often. Including three times in the last week. In my own living space. You can’t see me, but a shudder runs through me with discomfort as I type.

I doubt I’ll ever reach “enthusiast” status, but my project has been at least becoming a standard level of composure about them.

I have been terrified of spiders dating back to my youth (as opposed to other children who adore them). During my childhood, I had plenty of male siblings around to make sure I never had to handle any directly, but I still became hysterical if one was obviously in the same room as me. One incident stands out of one morning when I was eight, my family still asleep, and trying to deal with a spider that had made its way onto the living room surface. I “handled” with it by standing incredibly far away, nearly crossing the threshold (lest it chased me), and emptying half a bottle of pesticide toward it. The spray failed to hit the spider, but it managed to annoy and disturb everyone in my house.

As I got older, whoever I was dating or sharing a home with was, automatically, the bravest of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore in charge of dealing with it, while I emitted low keening sounds and beat a hasty retreat. When finding myself alone, my tactic was simply to vacate the area, turn off the light and try to forget about its being before I had to re-enter.

Recently, I stayed at a friend’s house where there was a particularly sizable huntsman who resided within the sill, primarily hanging out. To be more comfortable with its presence, I imagined the spider as a her, a girlie, in our circle, just chilling in the sun and listening to us chat. It sounds rather silly, but it was effective (to some degree). Or, making a conscious choice to become less phobic proved successful.

Regardless, I've made an effort to continue. I think about all the sensible justifications not to be scared. It is a fact that huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I recognize they consume things like insect pests (the bane of my existence). I am cognizant they are one of the planet's marvelous, non-threatening to people creatures.

Unfortunately, however, they do continue to scuttle like that. They propel themselves in the deeply alarming and somehow offensive way conceivable. The sight of their many legs propelling them at that frightening pace triggers my ancient psyche to enter panic mode. They are said to only have eight legs, but I believe that increases exponentially when they are in motion.

But it isn’t their fault that they have frightening appendages, and they have an equal entitlement to be where I am – perhaps even more so. I have discovered that taking the steps of trying not to instantly leap out of my body and retreat when I see one, trying to remain calm and collected, and deliberately thinking about their good points, has actually started to help.

Just because they are fuzzy entities that dart around with startling speed in a way that invades my dreams, doesn’t mean they merit my intense dislike, or my shrieks of terror. I can admit when my reactions have been misguided and driven by unfounded fear. I’m not sure I’ll ever attain the “scooping one into plasticware and escorting it to the garden” level, but you never know. Some life is left within this old dog yet.