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I am someone who believes that it is forever an option to evolve. My view is you absolutely are able to instruct a veteran learner, provided that the old dog is willing and ready for growth. So long as the person is willing to admit when it was wrong, and endeavor to transform into a improved version.

Well, admittedly, I am that seasoned creature. And the lesson I am attempting to master, even though I am decrepit? It is an important one, a feat I have grappled with, repeatedly, for my entire life. My ongoing effort … to grow less fearful of those large arachnids. Apologies to all the remaining arachnid species that exist; I have to be realistic about my potential for change as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is sizeable, in charge, and the one I encounter most often. Encompassing a trio of instances in the previous seven days. In my own living space. You can’t see me, but a shudder runs through me at the very thought as I type.

It's unlikely I’ll ever reach “admirer” status, but my project has been at least becoming a baseline of normalcy about them.

An intense phobia regarding spiders from my earliest years (as opposed to other children who adore them). In my formative years, I had a sufficient number of brothers around to guarantee I never had to engage with any personally, but I still freaked out if one was clearly in the immediate vicinity as me. Vividly, I recall of one morning when I was eight, my family slumbering on, and attempting to manage a spider that had made its way onto the lounge-room wall. I “dealt” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, nearly crossing the threshold (for fear that it pursued me), and discharging a significant portion of insect spray toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it did reach and annoy everyone in my house.

With the passage of time, whomever I was in a relationship with or cohabiting with was, by default, the bravest of spiders between us, and therefore tasked with managing the intruder, while I produced frightened noises and fled the scene. When finding myself alone, my method was simply to vacate the area, douse the illumination and try to forget about its existence before I had to re-enter.

In a recent episode, I was a guest at a pal's residence where there was a notably big huntsman who made its home in the casement, mostly just stationary. To be more comfortable with its presence, I imagined the spider as a 'girlie', a gal, one of us, just relaxing in the sun and listening to us yap. This may seem quite foolish, but it was effective (a little bit). Put another way, actively deciding to become less scared proved successful.

Regardless, I’ve tried to keep it up. I contemplate all the rational arguments not to be scared. It is a fact that huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I recognize they eat things like buzzing nuisances (my mortal enemies). I know they are one of the planet's marvelous, harmless-to-humans creatures.

Alas, they do continue to scuttle like that. They propel themselves in the most terrifying and somehow offensive way possible. The vision of their numerous appendages transporting them at that terrible speed triggers my caveman brain to kick into overdrive. They claim to only have the typical arachnid arrangement, but I maintain that triples when they get going.

But it is no fault of their own that they have unnerving limbs, and they have just as much right to be where I am – perhaps even more so. I’ve found that implementing the strategy of trying not to instantly leap out of my body and flee when I see one, working to keep composed and breathing steadily, and consciously focusing about their positive qualities, has proven somewhat effective.

Just because they are fuzzy entities that dart around with startling speed in a way that haunts my sleep, does not justify they warrant my loathing, or my high-pitched vocalizations. I can admit when I’ve been wrong and driven by baseless terror. It is uncertain I’ll ever make it to the “trapping one under a cup and taking it outside” stage, but you never know. There’s a few years within this seasoned learner yet.