I am someone who believes that it is never too late to evolve. My view is you absolutely are able to teach an old dog new tricks, on the condition that the experienced individual is open-minded and eager for knowledge. Provided that the person is willing to admit when it was mistaken, and endeavor to transform into a more enlightened self.
OK yes, I am that seasoned creature. And the skill I am trying to learn, despite the fact that I am set in my ways? It is an important one, a feat I have battled against, often, for my entire life. The quest I'm on … to become less scared of the common huntsman. Pardon me, all the different eight-legged creatures that exist; I have to be realistic about my capacity for development as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is sizeable, in charge, and the one I see with the greatest frequency. Including three times in the previous seven days. In my own living space. I'm not visible to you, but I'm grimacing with discomfort as I type.
I doubt I’ll ever reach “fan” status, but I've dedicated effort to at least attaining a baseline of normalcy about them.
An intense phobia regarding spiders since I was a child (unlike other children who find them delightful). In my formative years, I had ample brothers around to ensure I never had to engage with any personally, but I still panicked if one was obviously in the same room as me. I have a strong memory of one morning when I was eight, my family still asleep, and trying to deal with a spider that had made its way onto the living room surface. I “dealt” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, practically in the adjoining space (for fear that it ran after me), and emptying a significant portion of pesticide toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it managed to annoy and irritate everyone in my house.
In my adult life, my romantic partner at the time or sharing a home with was, automatically, the least afraid of spiders in our pairing, and therefore in charge of managing the intruder, while I made low keening sounds and beat a hasty retreat. In moments of solitude, my method was simply to leave the room, turn off the light and try to forget about its being before I had to re-enter.
In a recent episode, I visited a friend’s house where there was a very large huntsman who resided within the sill, primarily lingering. In order to be less scared of it, I imagined the spider as a her, a one of the girls, in our circle, just lounging in the sun and overhearing us yap. This may seem quite foolish, but it had an impact (to some degree). Or, actively deciding to become less scared worked.
Regardless, I’ve tried to keep it up. I think about all the sensible justifications not to be scared. It is a fact that huntsman spiders won’t harm me. I recognize they eat things like buzzing nuisances (creatures I despise). I am cognizant they are one of nature’s beautiful, harmless-to-humans creatures.
Unfortunately, however, they do continue to scuttle like that. They travel in the most terrifying and borderline immoral way possible. The vision of their many legs carrying them at that terrible speed induces my primordial instincts to kick into overdrive. They ostensibly only have the typical arachnid arrangement, but I am convinced that multiplies when they get going.
Yet it isn’t their fault that they have frightening appendages, and they have an equal entitlement to be where I am – if not more. I’ve found that implementing the strategy of making an effort to avoid immediately exit my own skin and flee when I see one, trying to remain calm and collected, and intentionally reflecting about their beneficial attributes, has actually started to help.
Simply due to the reality that they are hairy creatures that move hastily extremely quickly in a way that causes me nocturnal distress, does not justify they deserve my hatred, or my shrieks of terror. I can admit when fear has clouded my judgment and driven by baseless terror. I’m not sure I’ll ever reach the “catching one in a Tupperware container and taking it outside” stage, but one can't be sure. A bit of time remains for this old dog yet.
