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I am someone who believes that it is never too late to transform. I think you absolutely are able to instruct a veteran learner, as long as the mature being is open-minded and eager for knowledge. As long as the person is ready to confess when it was mistaken, and strive to be a more enlightened self.

Alright, I confess, I am the old dog. And the trick I am working to acquire, although I am a creature of habit? It is an major undertaking, a feat I have struggled with, often, for my all my days. My ongoing effort … to become less scared of the common huntsman. Apologies to all the different eight-legged creatures that exist; I have to be grounded about my capacity for development as a human. It also has to be the huntsman because it is imposing, dominant, and the one I run into regularly. Including a trio of instances in the recent past. Inside my home. You can’t see me, but I'm grimacing and grimacing as I type.

It's unlikely I’ll ever reach “admirer” status, but I've dedicated effort to at least attaining a standard level of composure about them.

An intense phobia regarding spiders dating back to my youth (unlike other children who adore them). In my formative years, I had plenty of male siblings 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. I have a strong memory 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 positioning myself at a great distance, almost into the next room (for fear that it ran after me), and discharging half a bottle of insect spray toward it. The spray failed to hit the spider, but it succeeded in affecting and disturb everyone in my house.

As I got older, whomever I was in a relationship with or cohabiting with was, automatically, the most courageous of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore tasked with dealing with it, while I produced whimpers of distress and fled the scene. If I was on my own, my method was simply to leave the room, douse the illumination and try to ignore its being before I had to enter again.

Not long ago, I visited a pal's residence where there was a particularly sizable huntsman who resided within the casement, mostly just hanging out. To be less fearful, I imagined the spider as a female entity, a girlie, in our circle, just lounging in the sun and eavesdropping on us chat. Admittedly, it appears rather silly, but it had an impact (a little bit). Put another way, the deliberate resolution to become more fearless did the trick.

Be that as it may, I've made an effort to continue. I reflect upon all the sensible justifications not to be scared. I know huntsman spiders pose no threat to me. I know they prey upon things like flies and mosquitoes (my mortal enemies). I am cognizant they are one of the planet's marvelous, non-threatening to people creatures.

Unfortunately, however, they do continue to walk like that. They propel themselves in the utterly horrifying and somehow offensive way imaginable. The appearance of their many legs transporting them at that terrible speed causes my ancient psyche to enter panic mode. They ostensibly only have a standard octet of limbs, but I maintain that triples when they get going.

But it isn’t their fault that they have unnerving limbs, and they have the same privilege to be where I am – possibly a greater claim. I have discovered that employing the techniques of making an effort to avoid instantly leap out of my body and flee when I see one, trying to remain still and breathing, and intentionally reflecting about their positive qualities, has actually started to help.

Just because they are hairy creatures that dart around extremely quickly in a way that haunts my sleep, doesn’t mean they warrant my loathing, or my shrieks of terror. It is possible to acknowledge when my reactions have been misguided and motivated by unfounded fear. I’m not sure I’ll ever make it to the “catching one in a Tupperware container and relocating it outdoors” phase, but miracles happen. Some life is left for this seasoned learner yet.