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I am someone who believes that it is forever an option to change. I think you absolutely are able to train a seasoned creature, on the condition that the experienced individual is receptive and ready for growth. So long as the old dog is willing to admit when it was in error, and work to become a more enlightened self.

Well, admittedly, I am that seasoned creature. And the trick I am working to acquire, although I am decrepit? It is an major undertaking, a feat I have struggled with, frequently, for my whole existence. The quest I'm on … to become less scared of huntsman spiders. Apologies to all the different eight-legged creatures that exist; I have to be pragmatic about my potential for change as a human. It also has to be the huntsman because it is sizeable, commanding, and the one I encounter most often. Including three times in the recent past. Within my dwelling. Though unseen, but I’m shaking my head at the very thought as I type.

I doubt I’ll ever reach “enthusiast” status, but my project has been at least attaining Normal about them.

A deep-seated fear of spiders dating back to my youth (unlike other children who are fascinated by them). During my childhood, I had a sufficient number of brothers around to guarantee I never had to engage with any myself, 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 facing the ordeal of a spider that had ascended the family room partition. I “managed” with it by standing incredibly far away, nearly crossing the threshold (in case it ran after me), and emptying a significant portion of insect spray toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it did reach and irritate everyone in my house.

With the passage of time, my romantic partner at the time or sharing a home with was, by default, the most courageous of spiders between us, and therefore responsible for handling the situation, while I emitted frightened noises and ran away. In moments of solitude, my method was simply to exit the space, plunge the room into darkness and try to erase the memory of its existence before I had to re-enter.

Not long ago, I stayed at a friend’s house where there was a very large huntsman who resided within the casement, mostly just stationary. In order to be more comfortable with its presence, I imagined the spider as a her, a girlie, in our circle, just lounging in the sun and overhearing us chat. This may seem rather silly, but it had an impact (a little bit). Put another way, actively deciding to become less phobic worked.

Regardless, I've endeavored to maintain this practice. I contemplate all the logical reasons not to be scared. It is a fact that huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I recognize they prey upon things like flies and mosquitoes (creatures I despise). It is well-established they are one of the planet's marvelous, benign creatures.

Alas, they do continue to scuttle like that. They move in the utterly horrifying and somehow offensive way conceivable. The appearance of their many legs carrying them at that frightening pace causes my primordial instincts to enter panic mode. They are said to only have eight legs, but I am convinced that multiplies when they get going.

Yet it cannot be blamed on them that they have unnerving limbs, and they have the same privilege to be where I am – if not more. I have discovered that implementing the strategy of working to prevent have a visceral panic reaction and retreat when I see one, attempting to stay composed and breathing steadily, and deliberately thinking about their good points, has begun to yield results.

Just because they are hairy creatures that move hastily at an alarming rate in a way that invades my dreams, does not justify they deserve my hatred, or my shrieks of terror. I am willing to confess when my reactions have been misguided and fueled by unfounded fear. It is uncertain I’ll ever reach the “scooping one into plasticware and escorting it to the garden” level, but miracles happen. There’s a few years within this old dog yet.