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I firmly hold the belief that it is always possible to evolve. I believe you can in fact train a seasoned creature, provided that the experienced individual is receptive and eager for knowledge. Provided that the individual in question is prepared to acknowledge when it was in error, and strive to be a better dog.

Alright, I confess, I am that seasoned creature. And the trick I am attempting to master, even though I am a creature of habit? It is an important one, an issue I have grappled with, often, for my entire life. I have been trying … to become less scared of huntsman spiders. Apologies to all the remaining arachnid species that exist; I have to be realistic about my capacity for development as a human. The focus must remain on the huntsman because it is imposing, dominant, and the one I run into regularly. Including a trio of instances in the last week. Inside my home. Though unseen, but a shudder runs through me with discomfort as I type.

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

I have been terrified of spiders from my earliest years (unlike other children who adore them). Growing up, I had a sufficient number of brothers around to guarantee I never had to handle any personally, but I still freaked out if one was obviously in the general area as me. Vividly, I recall of one morning when I was eight, my family unconscious, and facing the ordeal of a spider that had made its way onto the living room surface. I “dealt” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, nearly crossing the threshold (lest it chased me), and emptying half a bottle of insect spray toward it. The spray failed to hit the spider, but it succeeded in affecting and irritate everyone in my house.

As I got older, my romantic partner at the time or living with was, as a matter of course, the bravest of spiders between us, and therefore tasked with handling the situation, while I emitted frightened noises and beat a hasty retreat. If I was on my own, my tactic was simply to exit the space, plunge the room into darkness and try to forget about its presence before I had to re-enter.

Not long ago, I visited a friend’s house where there was a particularly sizable huntsman who lived in the casement, for the most part lingering. To be more comfortable with its presence, I conceptualized the spider as a 'girlie', a girlie, one of us, just relaxing in the sun and listening to us yap. Admittedly, it appears quite foolish, but it had an impact (somewhat). Put another way, making a conscious choice to become less scared did the trick.

Be that as it may, I’ve tried to keep it up. I contemplate all the rational arguments not to be scared. I know huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I know they prey upon things like buzzing nuisances (creatures I despise). It is well-established they are one of the world's exquisite, non-threatening to people creatures.

Yet, regrettably, they do continue to walk like that. They propel themselves in the most terrifying and somehow offensive way conceivable. The appearance of their many legs transporting them at that frightening pace induces my ancient psyche to go into high alert. They ostensibly only have a standard octet of limbs, but I maintain that increases exponentially when they get going.

Yet it isn’t their fault that they have unnerving limbs, and they have an equal entitlement to be where I am – if not more. My experience has shown that taking the steps of working to prevent immediately exit my own skin and flee when I see one, trying to remain still and breathing, and deliberately thinking about their good points, has actually started to help.

The mere fact that they are fuzzy entities that dart around extremely quickly in a way that causes me nocturnal distress, is no reason for they deserve my hatred, or my high-pitched vocalizations. I can admit when I’ve been wrong and driven by unfounded fear. I doubt I’ll ever reach the “catching one in a Tupperware container and taking it outside” phase, but you never know. There’s a few years for this veteran of life yet.