Sometimes reality seems too real to grasp. I experienced something like this the other day. I felt that the world would come to an end if I didn’t arrive at my destination by 3:10 pm, which for some reason became a mental deadline for me. The ferry wouldn’t wait. During this tense state of mind – I was on a bus, which was stuck in Friday afternoon traffic, from Seattle headed north toward the Anacortes ferry terminal – I recalled that I had a dream about this situation. I was in the San Juan Islands in the dream, which in reality was my final destination that day, last Friday. The dream returned to me as I started to sweat on the bus – I was confused how recently I’d had the dream – and its images startled me: a familiar female face was full of anger, directed at me. Fortunately, I knew there was a very small possibility that anyone would become angry with me that weekend, since I was traveling alone and would be alone in an isolated spot until Sunday. Yet the reality of that dream image made me as anxious as my 3:10 mental deadline. Somehow, I arrived at the ferry terminal in time, and I rode the ferry to Orcas Island, and from there a much smaller boat took me to my final destination. And what about my mental destination last Friday? Numbers in my head helped me during the day as fear wouldn’t seem to let go of me, and I remember what time it was on Friday evening when I finally sat down in the quiet cabin and opened a beer. It was time for my mind to slow down, if only it would listen.