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I maintain the conviction that it is never too late to transform. I think you can in fact instruct a veteran learner, as long as the old dog is receptive and ready for growth. Provided that the individual in question is prepared to acknowledge when it was wrong, and endeavor to transform into a more enlightened self.

OK yes, I am the old dog. And the trick I am working to acquire, even though I am set in my ways? It is an major undertaking, a feat I have grappled with, often, for my entire life. My ongoing effort … to develop a calmer response toward the common huntsman. Pardon me, all the different eight-legged creatures that exist; I have to be pragmatic about my potential for change as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is large, commanding, and the one I see with the greatest frequency. Encompassing three times in the last week. Within my dwelling. Though unseen, but I’m shaking my head at the very thought as I type.

It's unlikely I’ll ever reach “admirer” status, but my project has been at least achieving Normal about them.

An intense phobia regarding spiders since I was a child (in contrast to other children who find them delightful). Growing up, I had ample brothers around to ensure I never had to handle any directly, but I still freaked out if one was visibly in the same room as me. I have a strong memory of one morning when I was eight, my family unconscious, and attempting to manage a spider that had crawled on to the family room partition. I “dealt” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, almost into the next room (lest it ran after me), and discharging half a bottle of bug repellent toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it did reach and irritate everyone in my house.

In my adult life, my romantic partner at the time or cohabiting with was, as a matter of course, the bravest of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore responsible for managing the intruder, while I produced frightened noises and beat a hasty retreat. When finding myself alone, my method was simply to vacate the area, plunge the room into darkness and try to forget about its existence before I had to return.

Recently, I was a guest at a friend’s house where there was a very large huntsman who resided within the sill, primarily hanging out. As a means to be less scared of it, I imagined the spider as a 'girlie', a one of the girls, one of us, just chilling in the sun and overhearing us gab. This may seem rather silly, but it worked (to some degree). Alternatively, making a conscious choice to become less scared worked.

Whatever the case, I've endeavored to maintain this practice. I think about all the sensible justifications not to be scared. It is a fact that huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I know they prey upon things like buzzing nuisances (my mortal enemies). I know they are one of nature’s beautiful, benign creatures.

Yet, regrettably, they do continue to move like that. They propel themselves in the deeply alarming and somehow offensive way conceivable. The sight of their numerous appendages carrying them at that terrible speed triggers my primordial instincts to kick into overdrive. They are said to only have the typical arachnid arrangement, but I maintain that increases exponentially when they are in motion.

However it is no fault of their own that they have scary legs, and they have an equal entitlement to be where I am – if not more. My experience has shown that implementing the strategy of making an effort to avoid have a visceral panic reaction and run away when I see one, working to keep calm and collected, and intentionally reflecting about their beneficial attributes, has actually started to help.

The mere fact that they are furry beings that dart around extremely quickly in a way that invades my dreams, is no reason for they merit my intense dislike, or my girly screams. It is possible to acknowledge when my reactions have been misguided and fueled by unfounded fear. I doubt I’ll ever attain the “trapping one under a cup and escorting it to the garden” phase, but you never know. A bit of time remains for this veteran of life yet.