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I firmly hold the belief that it is always possible to change. I think you truly can teach an old dog new tricks, provided that the old dog is open-minded and willing to learn. Provided that the person is ready to confess when it was in error, and work to become a more enlightened self.

Well, admittedly, the metaphor applies to me. And the skill I am trying to learn, although I am a creature of habit? It is an important one, something I have struggled with, often, for my whole existence. My ongoing effort … to become less scared of the common huntsman. My regrets to all the other spiders that exist; I have to be pragmatic about my capacity for development as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is imposing, in charge, and the one I encounter most often. Including on three separate occasions in the recent past. In my own living space. I'm not visible to you, but a shudder runs through me and grimacing as I type.

I'm skeptical I’ll ever reach “enthusiast” status, but I’ve been working on at least attaining a baseline of normalcy about them.

A deep-seated fear of spiders since I was a child (in contrast to other children who are fascinated by them). During my childhood, I had a sufficient number of brothers around to make sure I never had to confront any directly, but I still panicked if one was obviously in the general area 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 crawled on to the living room surface. I “dealt” with it by standing incredibly far away, practically in the adjoining space (for fear that it ran after me), and spraying half a bottle of pesticide toward it. The chemical cloud missed the spider, but it did reach and irritate everyone in my house.

As I got older, whomever I was in a relationship with or sharing a home with was, by default, the bravest of spiders between us, and therefore tasked with managing the intruder, while I emitted frightened noises and fled the scene. If I was on my own, my tactic was simply to vacate the area, plunge the room into darkness and try to ignore its existence before I had to enter again.

Recently, I visited a pal's residence where there was a very large huntsman who made its home in the sill, for the most part lingering. To be less scared of it, I envisioned the spider as a her, a one of the girls, one of us, just chilling in the sun and overhearing us chat. It sounds extremely dumb, but it was effective (somewhat). Put another way, 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. I know huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I recognize they eat things like flies and mosquitoes (my mortal enemies). 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 move in the deeply alarming and almost unjust way imaginable. The appearance of their numerous appendages propelling them at that alarming velocity triggers my primordial instincts to kick into overdrive. They are said to only have a standard octet of limbs, but I believe that increases exponentially when they move.

However it cannot be blamed on them that they have frightening appendages, and they have just as much right to be where I am – if not more. My experience has shown that implementing the strategy of working to prevent instantly leap out of my body and run away when I see one, trying to remain calm and collected, and intentionally reflecting about their positive qualities, has actually started to help.

Simply due to the reality that they are fuzzy entities that scuttle about with startling speed in a way that haunts my sleep, doesn’t mean they merit my intense dislike, or my shrieks of terror. I can admit when I’ve been wrong and driven by baseless terror. It is uncertain I’ll ever attain the “catching one in a Tupperware container and relocating it outdoors” phase, but miracles happen. Some life is left within this seasoned learner yet.