When my kids were young, we often listened to a Raffi CD, and one of the songs was “There’s a Spider on the Floor.” “There’s a spider on the floor, on the floor. There’s a spider on the floor, on the floor. Who could ask for any more but a spider on the floor….” Or something like that. Well, this fall, there have been many spiders on the floor. I’ll be walking down the hallway or watching TV in the basement, and I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I look over and lurch with shock as I see a gigantic house spider scuttling across the floor. These spiders are huge, like some kind of spiky alien hand-like creatures. When I first saw one in my home, I was afraid and disturbed. Averse to killing anything, I carefully found a glass and a thick piece of paper, trapped it, and put it outside. Just holding the glass containing this formidable creature brought me close to panic. Over time, and through some good old-fashioned self-guided exposure (exposure therapy is a very effective treatment for fears), I became a lot less afraid of these spiders, but I still felt alarmed whenever I saw one. And, I would diligently put it outside each time. Then, one day, my wife looked up some information on giant house spiders. Apparently, if you see one of them, there are probably dozens in your home that you don’t see; they’re good at hiding. They generally only come out in the evening on a mission to find mates. They also eat other pests, such as silverfish. Apparently, they don’t survive well outside. As I took in this information, a strange thing started to happen. I started to feel compassion for these unwelcome guests. After all, they’re just looking for a safe place to live and innocently searching out mates. I grew concerned that I had been putting them at risk all this time by putting them outside. I also appreciated the idea that they were clearing our home of other, more problematic creatures. So, I decided to stop catching them and putting them outside. When I saw one, I just observed it for a short time and went back to my other activities. By the time I looked back, it would be gone. After about a week or so of not capturing or removing the spiders, something unusual happened: I stopped seeing them. In fact, I haven’t seen a spider in our home for the past three weeks or more. I’m not sure what to make of this, but it seems odd that, after I stopped removing them, I stopped seeing them. This made me think of other things in life that many of us would like to rid ourselves of, such as unwelcome thoughts or emotions, or even others’ undesirable behaviours, pet peeves, and so forth. What if we decided to understand and develop some appreciation for these experiences, even if we don’t like them? Perhaps we have something to learn from emotions and thoughts that we don’t want to have? Perhaps other people, as annoying as their behaviour can be, are simply doing the best they can. What if trying to control them is like a hall of mirrors; we keep having to try to control them over and over. Indeed, one of Dr. Marsha Linehan’s quotes goes something like this, “The quickest way to lose control over someone is to try to control them.” What if, instead, we were to step back, notice all of these things, radically accept (radical acceptance being a DBT skill) that they’re there, and stop trying to change them? I am, of course, only one of generations of psychologists and others to make this suggestion, so I’m under no delusion that this is a new idea. But, reminders are always useful, and I’ve come to believe that the spider on the floor was a gift. ~ Alexander L. Chapman, Ph.D., R.Psych.