A Quick Sharp Stab

For years they have been in my dreams, and the injury always
comes in the same place.

I had a vivid dream some years ago of being in a Roman
setting, and in that case the wound came from a dagger, delivered by the
patriarch of my dream family.

Last night it was a spear, pinning me to the ground, every
muscle in my chest in spasm, front and back.

Someone, a beautiful and eccentric woman doing some sort of
sound therapy (I really can’t explain it) with me years ago, had a vision of me
in a canoe, and the injury coming from an arrow. Her frame of reference might
have been reincarnation, but whether or not I want to go there, I have to
acknowledge that this motif appears again and again. What does it mean?

When I woke up last night, it all made sense. The wound is
close to the heart, but it is never fatal, or not instantly so. The wound is
painful, and my whole body reacts to the invasion of the foreign object. I
convulse protectively.

I do this all the time. I sleep this way, turned in on
myself, though the only threat to my peace is a 9 pound cat who wants to be as
near to me as possible.

I’ve been told by a nurse that the sore place I associate
with the dream wounds is actually tender for physiological reasons, a place
where the trail of lymph nodes criss-crosses.

It’s not clear how I hurt my back, but it is clear that it
happened at a time when my focus had been drawn to past emotional injuries, as I
worked on learning to live in my changed body.

One encouraging note: in last night’s dream, for the first
time, I was not alone when injured. A brave friend stood beside me. Since
everyone you meet in a dream represents some part of yourself, I find that
encouraging, to think there is some part of me symbolized by her particular
heroic qualities.

Of course this also means I have some relationship to the assailant,
sometimes seen and other times not…

More to ponder, naturally.

Appointment with the massage therapist at 8 a.m.,

19 thoughts on “A Quick Sharp Stab”

  1. Oh, I’m sorry to hear about this — though glad that you had a friend beside you in the dream. And how fascinating that it is associated with Roman times…

  2. ((Songbird)) I’m glad you’ll be getting a massage. My massage therapist always helps me when my back or neck are sore. Thinking of stabbing, I’m recalling the chapter I just read in “Mary: The Imagination of her Heart” where Simeon says she’ll be stabbed with a huge sword, which I learned from the author of the book. Perhaps that’s a thought to reflect on? I am impressed with your insights.

  3. Cracking up at will smama.
    I’m thinking lugging giant dogs and shoveling snow might have contributed to your back injury, if not to your stabby dream.
    Best massage I ever had (and the only one I ever felt comfortable getting) was from a physical therapist after I killed my back lifting the Giant Baby. He managed to find the spazzy spot and rub it out. Hope you have similar results!

  4. Now a massage therapist is someone I’d like to meet! Good for you.
    Dreams are amazing things. In an improv I once did, portraying a shrink, I said “Dreams are our brains telling us bedtime stories”. I believe a lot of them are just that.

  5. How exciting to find that your inner hero is emerging. Facing and meeting your assailant will be frightening but very powerful. Though I can’t literally be there to walk with you through this work, I will be praying for you as you explore. (I love dream work–can you tell?–and yours are so vivid.)

  6. I love that you appeared in your own dream as a brave friend. Being a brave friend to yourself is one of the best gifts you can give yourself.
    Hugs for all the hard work you’re doing.

  7. Most people would just discount it as bad dreams. You are so brave to want to figure it out. Do you keep a dream journal?

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