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I maintain the conviction that it is forever an option to transform. I believe you can in fact instruct a veteran learner, on the condition that the mature being is receptive and ready for growth. Provided that the person is willing to admit when it was mistaken, and strive to be a better dog.

Alright, I confess, the metaphor applies to me. And the skill I am trying to learn, even though I am a creature of habit? It is an important one, an issue I have battled against, repeatedly, for my entire life. My ongoing effort … to develop a calmer response toward huntsman spiders. Apologies to all the other spiders that exist; I have to be pragmatic about my capacity for development as a human. The focus must remain on the huntsman because it is imposing, commanding, and the one I encounter most often. Including three times in the recent past. Inside my home. I'm not visible to you, but I’m shaking my head with discomfort as I type.

I'm skeptical I’ll ever reach “fan” status, but my project has been at least attaining a baseline of normalcy about them.

I have been terrified of spiders from my earliest years (in contrast to other children who find them delightful). In my formative years, I had plenty of male siblings around to ensure I never had to engage with any personally, but I still panicked if one was obviously in the immediate vicinity as me. One incident stands out of one morning when I was eight, my family slumbering on, and attempting to manage a spider that had crawled on to the lounge-room wall. I “managed” with it by standing incredibly far away, practically in the adjoining space (in case it pursued me), and emptying half a bottle of bug repellent toward it. The spray failed to hit the spider, but it succeeded in affecting and disturb everyone in my house.

With the passage of time, whomever I was in a relationship with or living with was, as a matter of course, the bravest of spiders in our pairing, and therefore responsible for dealing with it, while I produced low keening sounds and beat a hasty retreat. When finding myself alone, my strategy was simply to leave the room, turn off the light and try to forget about its existence before I had to re-enter.

In a recent episode, I was a guest at a companion's home where there was a very large huntsman who resided within the sill, primarily stationary. As a means to be more comfortable with its presence, I envisioned the spider as a her, a girlie, in our circle, just lounging in the sun and eavesdropping on us gab. This may seem rather silly, but it worked (to some degree). Or, actively deciding to become more fearless did the trick.

Be that as it may, I've endeavored to maintain this practice. I think about all the rational arguments not to be scared. I am aware huntsman spiders won’t harm me. I know they eat things like flies and mosquitoes (creatures I despise). It is well-established they are one of the world's exquisite, non-threatening to people creatures.

Unfortunately, however, they do continue to walk like that. They propel themselves in the utterly horrifying and almost unjust way conceivable. The vision of their many legs carrying them at that alarming velocity induces my primordial instincts to enter panic mode. They ostensibly only have the typical arachnid arrangement, but I believe that increases exponentially when they move.

But it is no fault of their own that they have frightening appendages, and they have the same privilege to be where I am – possibly a greater claim. I have discovered that employing the techniques of trying not to have a visceral panic reaction and flee when I see one, trying to remain composed and breathing steadily, and intentionally reflecting about their beneficial attributes, has begun to yield results.

Simply due to the reality that they are furry beings that dart around at an alarming rate in a way that causes me nocturnal distress, doesn’t mean they warrant my loathing, or my shrieks of terror. It is possible to acknowledge when I’ve been wrong and fueled by irrational anxiety. I doubt I’ll ever attain the “scooping one into plasticware and relocating it outdoors” phase, but miracles happen. Some life is left left in this veteran of life yet.