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I am someone who believes that it is never too late to change. I believe you can in fact train a seasoned creature, provided that the old dog is open-minded and ready for growth. So long as the person is ready to confess when it was in error, and endeavor to transform into a better dog.

Well, admittedly, I am that seasoned creature. And the lesson I am trying to learn, although I am decrepit? It is an important one, a feat I have grappled with, often, for my whole existence. My ongoing effort … to become less scared of huntsman spiders. Pardon me, all the other spiders that exist; I have to be grounded about my capacity for development as a human. It also has to be the huntsman because it is sizeable, dominant, and the one I encounter most often. This includes a trio of instances in the recent past. In my own living space. I'm not visible to you, but I'm grimacing with discomfort as I type.

I doubt I’ll ever reach “fan” status, but I’ve been working on at least attaining a standard level of composure about them.

An intense phobia regarding spiders since I was a child (as opposed to other children who find them delightful). During my childhood, I had a sufficient number of brothers around to ensure I never had to confront any directly, but I still freaked out if one was visibly in the general area as me. One incident stands out of one morning when I was eight, my family slumbering on, and facing the ordeal of a spider that had ascended the living room surface. I “dealt” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, practically in the adjoining space (for fear that it chased me), and discharging a significant portion of pesticide toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it succeeded in affecting and disturb everyone in my house.

In my adult life, whoever I was dating or living with was, as a matter of course, the bravest of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore tasked with dealing with it, while I emitted frightened noises and beat a hasty retreat. In moments of solitude, my tactic was simply to vacate the area, plunge the room into darkness and try to erase the memory of its presence before I had to enter again.

Recently, I stayed at a companion's home where there was a notably big huntsman who made its home in the window frame, mostly just stationary. In order to be less fearful, I envisioned the spider as a female entity, a one of the girls, part of the group, just lounging in the sun and eavesdropping on us chat. This may seem quite foolish, but it worked (a little bit). Put another way, the deliberate resolution to become less scared worked.

Regardless, I’ve tried to keep it up. I contemplate all the sensible justifications not to be scared. I am aware huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I recognize they consume things like insect pests (creatures I despise). I am cognizant they are one of nature’s beautiful, non-threatening to people creatures.

Yet, regrettably, they do continue to move like that. They travel in the most terrifying and almost unjust way possible. The vision of their many legs propelling them at that frightening pace induces my primordial instincts to go into high alert. They claim to only have the typical arachnid arrangement, but I maintain that triples when they are in motion.

However it cannot be blamed on them that they have unnerving limbs, and they have the same privilege to be where I am – possibly a greater claim. I have discovered that employing the techniques of making an effort to avoid have a visceral panic reaction and run away when I see one, working to keep composed and breathing steadily, and intentionally reflecting about their positive qualities, has actually started to help.

Just because they are hairy creatures that dart around extremely quickly in a way that causes me nocturnal distress, does not justify they deserve my hatred, or my shrieks of terror. I can admit when I’ve been wrong and motivated by baseless terror. It is uncertain I’ll ever attain the “scooping one into plasticware and relocating it outdoors” stage, but you never know. A bit of time remains within this veteran of life yet.