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I maintain the conviction that it is always possible to change. I think you truly can instruct a veteran learner, provided that the mature being is open-minded and eager for knowledge. As long as the individual in question is ready to confess when it was mistaken, and strive to be a more enlightened self.

OK yes, I am the old dog. And the skill I am working to acquire, although I am decrepit? It is an major undertaking, a feat I have struggled with, repeatedly, for my entire life. I have been trying … to become less scared of huntsman spiders. Pardon me, all the different eight-legged creatures 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 sizeable, dominant, and the one I run into regularly. This includes a trio of instances in the previous seven days. In my own living space. You can’t see me, but I’m shaking my head at the very thought as I type.

It's unlikely I’ll ever reach “enthusiast” status, but my project has been at least becoming a standard level of composure about them.

A deep-seated fear of spiders since I was a child (as opposed to other children who are fascinated by them). In my formative years, I had ample brothers around to ensure I never had to handle any directly, 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 slumbering on, and attempting to manage a spider that had crawled on to the lounge-room wall. I “handled” with it by retreating to a remote corner, almost into the next room (lest it chased me), and emptying a generous amount of bug repellent toward it. The chemical cloud missed the spider, but it managed to annoy and annoy everyone in my house.

In my adult life, my romantic partner at the time or cohabiting with was, automatically, the most courageous of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore responsible for managing the intruder, while I emitted whimpers of distress and ran away. If I was on my own, my method was simply to vacate the area, plunge the room into darkness and try to ignore its existence before I had to enter again.

In a recent episode, I was a guest at a pal's residence where there was a very large huntsman who resided within the sill, mostly just lingering. In order to be less fearful, I imagined the spider as a female entity, a one of the girls, in our circle, just lounging in the sun and listening to us chat. Admittedly, it appears extremely dumb, but it was effective (a little bit). Or, making a conscious choice to become more fearless proved successful.

Whatever the case, I’ve tried to keep it up. I reflect upon all the logical reasons not to be scared. I know huntsman spiders won’t harm me. I understand they consume things like flies and mosquitoes (my mortal enemies). I am cognizant they are one of the planet's marvelous, benign creatures.

Unfortunately, however, they do continue to move like that. They propel themselves in the deeply alarming and almost unjust way imaginable. The sight of their numerous appendages propelling them at that alarming velocity triggers my ancient psyche to enter panic mode. They claim to only have eight legs, but I maintain that multiplies when they move.

However it is no fault of their own that they have scary legs, and they have just as much right to be where I am – if not more. My experience has shown that implementing the strategy of working to prevent immediately exit my own skin and flee when I see one, attempting to stay composed and breathing steadily, and intentionally reflecting about their good points, has proven somewhat effective.

The mere fact that they are fuzzy entities that move hastily with startling speed in a way that causes me nocturnal distress, is no reason for they deserve my hatred, or my girly screams. It is possible to acknowledge when I’ve been wrong and fueled by baseless terror. I doubt I’ll ever attain the “trapping one under a cup and relocating it outdoors” stage, but you never know. A bit of time remains within this seasoned learner yet.