🔗 Share this article

I maintain the conviction that it is always possible to evolve. My view is you absolutely are able to teach an old dog new tricks, as long as the mature being is open-minded and eager for knowledge. Provided that the old dog is willing to admit when it was wrong, and strive to be a more enlightened self.

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, a feat I have grappled with, repeatedly, for my all my days. The quest I'm on … to develop a calmer response toward the common huntsman. My regrets to all the other spiders that exist; I have to be pragmatic about my capacity for development as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is large, commanding, and the one I see with the greatest frequency. Including on three separate occasions in the previous seven days. Within my dwelling. You can’t see me, but I’m shaking my head and grimacing as I type.

I doubt I’ll ever reach “fan” status, but my project has been at least attaining a standard level of composure about them.

I have been terrified of spiders from my earliest years (unlike other children who find them delightful). Growing up, I had ample brothers around to guarantee I never had to confront any directly, but I still became hysterical if one was visibly in the same room as me. Vividly, I recall of one morning when I was eight, my family unconscious, and attempting to manage a spider that had crawled on to the living room surface. I “handled” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, practically in the adjoining space (in case it chased me), and spraying a generous amount of bug repellent toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it managed to annoy and irritate everyone in my house.

As I got older, whomever I was in a relationship with or living with was, automatically, the bravest of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore tasked with managing the intruder, while I produced whimpers of distress and ran away. When finding myself alone, my tactic was simply to vacate the area, turn off the light and try to forget about its existence before I had to enter again.

Recently, I stayed at a friend’s house where there was a very large huntsman who made its home in the casement, mostly just stationary. In order to be less scared of it, I imagined the spider as a her, a one of the girls, part of the group, just lounging in the sun and overhearing us gab. It sounds rather silly, but it had an impact (a little bit). Or, actively deciding to become more fearless proved successful.

Be that as it may, I've endeavored to maintain this practice. I reflect upon all the logical reasons not to be scared. I am aware huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I know they prey upon things like flies and mosquitoes (creatures I despise). I am cognizant they are one of nature’s beautiful, benign creatures.

Unfortunately, however, they do continue to walk like that. They propel themselves in the most terrifying and almost unjust way possible. The vision of their multiple limbs carrying them at that terrible speed triggers my ancient psyche to go into high alert. They ostensibly only have eight legs, but I believe that triples when they are in motion.

However it cannot be blamed on them that they have frightening appendages, and they have the same privilege to be where I am – perhaps even more so. My experience has shown that employing the techniques of working to prevent immediately exit my own skin and retreat 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 scuttle about extremely quickly in a way that haunts my sleep, is no reason for they deserve my hatred, or my shrieks of terror. I can admit when my reactions have been misguided and driven by irrational anxiety. I’m not sure I’ll ever reach the “catching one in a Tupperware container and relocating it outdoors” phase, but one can't be sure. Some life is left within this veteran of life yet.