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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, provided that the experienced individual is open-minded and eager for knowledge. So long as the old dog is prepared to acknowledge when it was wrong, and work to become a better dog.

Well, admittedly, I am the old dog. And the lesson I am attempting to master, despite the fact that I am a creature of habit? It is an important one, an issue I have grappled with, frequently, for my entire life. My ongoing effort … to develop a calmer response toward huntsman spiders. Pardon me, all the remaining arachnid species that exist; I have to be realistic about my possible growth as a human. The focus must remain on the huntsman because it is sizeable, commanding, and the one I see with the greatest frequency. Encompassing a trio of instances in the previous seven days. In my own living space. Though unseen, but I'm grimacing and grimacing as I type.

I doubt I’ll ever reach “enthusiast” status, but I've dedicated effort to at least achieving Normal about them.

A deep-seated fear of spiders dating back to my youth (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 engage with any myself, but I still freaked out if one was visibly in the same room as me. One incident stands out of one morning when I was eight, my family unconscious, and facing the ordeal of a spider that had made its way onto the lounge-room wall. I “dealt” with it by retreating to a remote corner, almost into the next room (for fear that it ran after me), and discharging half a bottle of insect spray toward it. The chemical cloud missed the spider, but it did reach and irritate everyone in my house.

With the passage of time, whoever I was dating or cohabiting with was, as a matter of course, the least afraid of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore in charge of managing the intruder, while I emitted frightened noises and beat a hasty retreat. If I was on my own, my tactic was simply to vacate the area, plunge the room into darkness and try to erase the memory of its existence before I had to return.

Recently, I stayed at a pal's residence where there was a particularly sizable huntsman who lived in the sill, mostly just lingering. In order to be less scared of it, I conceptualized the spider as a female entity, a girlie, in our circle, just lounging in the sun and eavesdropping on us yap. It sounds quite foolish, but it had an impact (somewhat). Put another way, actively deciding to become less scared worked.

Regardless, I’ve tried to keep it up. I reflect upon all the logical reasons not to be scared. It is a fact that huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I understand they prey upon things like buzzing nuisances (creatures I despise). I am cognizant they are one of the world's exquisite, non-threatening to people creatures.

Alas, they do continue to walk like that. They propel themselves in the deeply alarming and almost unjust way conceivable. The vision of their multiple limbs propelling them at that terrible speed triggers my caveman brain to kick into overdrive. They are said to only have a standard octet of limbs, but I maintain that triples when they move.

But it is no fault of their own that they have frightening appendages, and they have just as much right to be where I am – perhaps even more so. I have discovered that taking the steps of making an effort to avoid instantly leap out of my body and run away when I see one, trying to remain calm and collected, and consciously focusing about their good points, has actually started to help.

Just because they are furry beings that move hastily at an alarming rate in a way that haunts my sleep, does not justify they deserve my hatred, or my high-pitched vocalizations. It is possible to acknowledge when I’ve been wrong and motivated by unfounded fear. I doubt I’ll ever attain the “catching one in a Tupperware container and escorting it to the garden” level, but you never know. Some life is left left in this veteran of life yet.