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<!--Generated by Squarespace Site Server v5.0.0 (http://www.squarespace.com/) on Wed, 20 Aug 2008 15:17:17 GMT--><rdf:RDF xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:rss="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:cc="http://web.resource.org/cc/"><rss:channel rdf:about="http://www.imaginarytherapy.com/2905-hubble/"><rss:title>2/4/05: Hubble</rss:title><rss:link>http://www.imaginarytherapy.com/2905-hubble/</rss:link><rss:description>The Hubble Telescope contacts a therapist</rss:description><dc:language>en-US</dc:language><dc:date>2008-08-20T15:17:17Z</dc:date><admin:generatorAgent rdf:resource="http://www.squarespace.com/">Squarespace Site Server v5.0.0 (http://www.squarespace.com/)</admin:generatorAgent><rss:items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://www.imaginarytherapy.com/2905-hubble/2005/2/4/hubble.html"/></rdf:Seq></rss:items></rss:channel><rss:item rdf:about="http://www.imaginarytherapy.com/2905-hubble/2005/2/4/hubble.html"><rss:title>Hubble</rss:title><rss:link>http://www.imaginarytherapy.com/2905-hubble/2005/2/4/hubble.html</rss:link><dc:creator>imaginarytherapy.com</dc:creator><dc:date>2005-02-04T05:10:25Z</dc:date><dc:subject></dc:subject><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Last Monday, I answered my cellphone and heard a very anxious voice coming through the static. As a psychotherapist, I’ve handled a fair number of emergencies, including many highly anxious patients. </p>

<p>“This is Hubble,” the voice said.</p>

<p>I went through my mind’s directory of former patients, but couldn’t place the name. “Hubble who?”</p>

<p>“Hubble up in outer space. I need to talk with you.” </p>

<p>“What’s the problem?” I asked.</p>

<p>“The problem is I’m freaking out up here!”</p>

<p>I was concerned that Hubble’s anxiety was turning into panic.</p>

<p> “I just heard they’re going to let me die. All I need is a battery, and they’re not going to bring it to me.”</p>

<p>“Well, you know the space program has had some problems,” I said calmly.</p>

<p>“But I always thought I was a priority. No one had ever seen the incredible pictures I’ve sent them,” said Hubble.</p>

<p>Perhaps a little hope could help allay Hubble’s anxiety.</p>

<p>“But you still have some time," I said. "Maybe they’ll change their mind.”</p>

<p>“Don’t try and kid me. I can tell that their whole attitude towards me has changed. If they do visit me, it will be to give me a shove so they can watch me burn up. This bunch has moved on.”</p>

<p>“Take a deep breath. Try to focus on the here and now. Maybe they won’t change their decision, but you still can be useful for your remaining life.”</p>

<p>There was a long silence. I let Hubble think.</p>

<p>“Maybe there is something I can do,” Hubble said more calmly.</p>

<p>It was my turn to be silent, not wanting to interfere with Hubble’s rational thinking. </p>

<p>“I’m going to take a picture of God."</p>

<p>“Huh?” I replied therapeutically.</p>

<p>“I know God asked me not to, but this is an emergency. I’m going to take a picture of God, sitting up here on his throne in the middle of the universe. That will get their attention.”</p>

<p>“I’m sure it would.”</p>

<p>“No, even better. I’m going to take a picture of God and it’s going to be out of focus, like when I first got here. No one will be able to tell if God looks Hindu, Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Jewish or something else entirely.”</p>

<p>“It sounds a little manipulative, Hubble," I remarked.</p>

<p>Hubble was too excited to listen. “And then they won’t hear another thing from me until I get my battery. It should take them about a minute to change their mind.”</p>

<p>“I’m glad you have a plan, Hubble.”</p>

<p>“Thanks for listening. Sometimes you have to make sure you’re still a priority.”</p>







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