Dreaming of Knives
I’ve been having especially vivid dreams lately, the kind that hook into your mind and ride the rising wave of consciousness as you wake and look around, startled to find yourself at home and in bed. My two most recent dreams have focused on knives.
In the first, I was confronted by a knife-wielding man of about twice my age who began to apologize as soon as he started trying to stab me in the chest. I found myself with another knife in my own hand, and eventually thrust into his chest. The only way to keep his blade from entering my ribs was to pull my chest backwards while pushing my arm further forward, and my knife deeper into him, all the while saying how sorry I was that I had to stab him. When the gruesome and rueful ordeal was over, I had an inch long incision between two of my ribs, but didn’t really worry about it. I knew that his knife had entered my chest, right by my heart, but I was sure I would be fine.
I woke up thinking my nonchalance was a bit peculiar. There are plenty of important things in one’s chest that are best not-punctured.
The second and more recent dream I’ve had involving knifes centered around me and a friend from high school, fleeing a gang of knife-wielding men and women through an amalgamation of my elementary school, middle school, and high school; a collective every-school. Chased down a narrow hallway, I gave my friend a boost up and through a window, and then followed through on my own. As my legs dangled behind me, one of our pursuers grabbed my ankles, and slowly cut through on of my achilles tendons. My friend and I continued to flee, but I had to remind myself that one of my feet would should no longer work, and would purposefully drag it on the ground behind me.
I mentioned these dreams to my friend Lee yesterday. A while ago Lee tore a major ligament in one of his knees, and had to go through some very intense surgery, followed by months of physical therapy and ongoing recovery. He recalled having many similar dreams about his knee, in which there would be something really simple he needed to do like kicking a soccer ball, which he would infuriatingly be unable to accomplish. Lee thought that these dreams reflecting a frustration with being unable to control your own body.
If my dreams reflect a conception of my current condition, it’s that the physical pain I’ve felt, which is almost non-existant, is seemingly unmatched to the severity of my injury. I’m quite able to walk on my casted leg, despite admonishment and the risk of delaying the healing process. I’m curious if the portions of my brain responsible for subconscious sensory awareness of my physical body are aware, in some sense, of my leg’s immobility. I wonder how much, if any, of my dreaming of injury is caused by conscious concern, and how much is unconscious recognition.