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I am someone who believes that it is never too late to evolve. My view is you truly can train a seasoned creature, as long as the old dog is receptive and ready for growth. As long as the individual in question is prepared to acknowledge when it was in error, and work to become a better dog.

Well, admittedly, I am that seasoned creature. And the skill I am attempting to master, despite the fact that I am set in my ways? It is an major undertaking, an issue I have struggled with, repeatedly, for my whole existence. My ongoing effort … to grow less fearful of the common huntsman. Apologies to all the remaining arachnid species that exist; I have to be realistic about my capacity for development as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is sizeable, dominant, and the one I see with the greatest frequency. Encompassing three times in the last week. Inside my home. I'm not visible to you, but I'm grimacing at the very thought as I type.

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

A deep-seated fear of spiders from my earliest years (as opposed to other children who find them delightful). Growing up, I had a sufficient number of brothers around to guarantee I never had to handle any myself, but I still panicked if one was visibly 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 ascended the living room surface. I “handled” with it by retreating to a remote corner, practically in the adjoining space (for fear that it ran after me), and discharging half a bottle of pesticide toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it managed to annoy and irritate everyone in my house.

As I got older, whomever I was in a relationship with or living with was, automatically, the least afraid of spiders in our pairing, and therefore in charge of handling the situation, while I produced whimpers of distress and ran away. If I was on my own, my strategy was simply to vacate the area, turn off the light and try to ignore its existence before I had to enter again.

Not long ago, I stayed at a pal's residence where there was a notably big huntsman who resided within the casement, primarily lingering. As a means to be more comfortable with its presence, I conceptualized the spider as a her, a gal, one of us, just lounging in the sun and eavesdropping on us chat. This may seem extremely dumb, but it worked (a little bit). Or, the deliberate resolution to become less phobic worked.

Be that as it may, I’ve tried to keep it up. I reflect upon all the sensible justifications not to be scared. I am aware huntsman spiders pose no threat to me. I recognize they consume things like buzzing nuisances (my mortal enemies). I am cognizant they are one of the world's exquisite, harmless-to-humans creatures.

Alas, they do continue to walk like that. They move in the deeply alarming and borderline immoral way imaginable. The appearance of their numerous appendages propelling them at that terrible speed triggers my caveman brain to go into high alert. They claim to only have the typical arachnid arrangement, but I believe that multiplies when they get going.

However it is no fault of their own that they have scary legs, and they have the same privilege to be where I am – possibly a greater claim. I have discovered that taking the steps of making an effort to avoid immediately exit my own skin and flee when I see one, attempting to stay still and breathing, and consciously focusing about their beneficial attributes, has proven somewhat effective.

Simply due to the reality that they are fuzzy entities that scuttle about extremely quickly in a way that causes me nocturnal distress, is no reason for they merit my intense dislike, or my high-pitched vocalizations. I can admit when my reactions have been misguided and driven by baseless terror. It is uncertain I’ll ever reach the “trapping one under a cup and relocating it outdoors” phase, but miracles happen. A bit of time remains for this seasoned learner yet.