Spiders
By Karen Krueger

Spiders. I hate them, they scare me, they invoke fear in my very being. How and when I became scared of spiders remains a mystery to me. I cannot produce the exact moment I became afraid of them. The bottom line is, I cannot remember NOT being afraid of them. Even the smallest of them, creeping along on their eight spindly legs is enough to put me into cardiac arrest. I can't stand them. I can appreciate, even admire the beautiful lace they spin in the corners of my barn, but any sign of the designer will stir me to obliterate that frail doily with a pitchfork and spray with enough insecticide to have to file an environmental impact statement.

My friend Rick owns a pet shop called the “The Pet Zone”. Among the assorted small creatures he keeps are spiders. He sells them. As pets! I find this revoltingly odd. What type of weird person would keep such an unlikely pet as a spider? What do you do with them? I can't imagine sitting down for an evening of videos and popcorn with your pet spider curled contentedly in you lap. It is hardly a heartwarming vision of loveliness. Yet, people buy them and Rick sells them.

I stop at Rick's once and a while.  Sometimes to buy food for my colorful, angelic voiced, gouldian finches. Sometimes to play with the cockateils, rats or snakes. Sometimes to visit with Rick and sometimes to visit his spiders. I used to bypass the spiders at Rick's. Even the sight of them, safe in their neatly stacked containers, made my skin prickle. Upon entering the store I would greet Rick and ask, "Where are they today?" (They are always in the exact same place.) He'd laugh at me and ask, "Why? Did you want to see one?" Then he'd point in their direction. I'd carefully make detour around them and carry on with my business.

One day while I was watching the tropical fish, Rick asked if I wanted to watch a spider molt. (Of course I didn't.) He had, however, piqued my curiosity and I found myself standing, a safe distance away, from a clear plastic container watching a spider trying to struggle free of it's skin.

It was blind and extremely vulnerable at this point. I  stepped closer. Content that it could go nowhere I stepped closer. I watched with childlike fascination as it made a valiant attempt to struggle free from the bondage of it's own skin in order to grow.

I've had struggles in my own life. I've been vulnerable. I've felt the need to break free. I've shed pieces of my old skin so I could grow. This small creature was doing the same. I was beginning to feel compassion for the very thing that locks me in a state of helpless fright. My fear began to abate.

Under the right circumstances my fear was tamable.

I’m now on the road to conquering my fear of spiders. I realize not every spider is helplessly suspended in the state of molting. Some, most in fact are still quite able to startle me as they creep and drop into places that take me by surprise. Some are still down at Rick's in their clear, plastic containers stacked in towers on the shelves. I don't avoid them anymore...but I don't exactly embrace them either. I am more comfortable with them though I haven't picked up a container with one in it yet. Are you kidding? I am afraid the lid might pop off! I do, however, go and look at them closely. I don't question Rick as to their location. I know where they are. I make myself go look at them.

I am learning to face my fears. Taking them on one by one. I figure if I can face them, if I can turn and look them straight on, I can overcome them or at least make them manageable. I don't want to be paralyzed by my fears. I don't want to be like that molting spider. It died in its’ struggle to molt. Rick said it gave up trying to get out of his skin and just died.

The spiders at Rick's taught me, that by putting my fears in little containers, I can look at them with out the fear of them getting out and away from me. It lets me examine them at close range and figure out just what my problem is with them. Then at some point when I become comfortable with what I have in the container I can remove the lid and once and for all overcome that fear. I haven't figured out how I am going to manage my other fears. I haven't found the right container for them I guess, and I haven't seen them at Rick's. But I'll figure something out.

In the meantime I've heard they keep leaches over at the bait store. In a fridge. On a shelf. In containers.