A Message of Portent?

Between thin rain and the deepening indigo sky, there was little visibility beyond the windows. Alone in my house save for a sleeping child.

Why don’t they use the doorbell?

And yet the knocking persisted, sharp and regular: knock knock!

Back door, front door. French door on the deck. knock knock! No one beyond the curtains. Back door, front door. French door on the deck. knock knock!

I propped myself up on my elbow, limbs sweaty, comforter tangled around my bare feet. The house was quiet except for my husband’s snoring. The knocking so close to the surface of consciousness, I felt I needed to listen for the next occurrence.

At some point my vigil relented to sleep, but the phantom knocking tainted my rest. I woke blearily to my son chirping at my bedside.

Image courtesy of stock.xchg

A trip down the Google rabbit hole reveals some possibilities, a search for dream symbols and a link to a Jungian dream dictionary:

To hear knocking in your dreams suggests that your unconscious is trying to attract your attention to some aspect of yourself or to some waking situation. A new opportunity may be presented to you. Alternatively, the dream may be a pun that you are “knocking” on or insulting something or someone. Or perhaps there is a habit or behavior that you to stop or “knock it off”.

Further, less academic interpretations point to a need for freedom, to fortune smiling. Such positive connotations from such a sinister dream.

Nearly eight hours later and I can’t shake the notion that a message has been delivered, but I confess, I’d trust the messenger more if it hadn’t scared me half to death in the middle of the night.

Of course, it also could have been the fact that I’ve been reading Stieg Larsson before I go to sleep.

So is it omens and portent or a hyperactive imagination?

13 responses to “A Message of Portent?

  1. Stieg Larsson will definitely impact your sleep….

    • I got all the way through “Dragon Tattoo” without nightmares, but less than a chapter into “Played with Fire” and I’m up half the night.

      Maybe I’m just frightened of Caribbean escapes?

  2. All I can think about now is the scene with the porter from Macbeth.
    “Knock, knock, knock.”

    Also, I love the word “portent.”

    And your dreams kick ass.

  3. I’m trying to put myself into your shoes here . . . if I had that dream, I’d truly wonder if there was something within my grasp that I just wasn’t taking — something that was begging to be brought into my life, and my subconscious knows that it would be a good thing for me to do – but, for whatever reason, my conscious self doesn’t see it.

    Then, I’d curse my unconscious self for not having the whatever be the person who was actually knocking while trying to go back to sleep. And then I’d sleep, dreaming of raven tapping at my chamber door.

  4. I do hope whatever is knocking comes to fruition…on another note I won’t read those books because I know I’d be haunted by them so I can only imagine going to sleep reading them.

    It would seem to me that knocking of any kind would mean I’m about to let something or someone in….may good things follow. Xo

    • It’s funny, I don’t usually dream badly when I’m reading dark things. I’m going to go with the Jungian interpretation, and hope for a good opportunity looking to come in.

  5. Cameron, I am so jealous of people who can remember their dreams. I can NEVER remember them, except for the one migraine-pill overdose dream from a couple of weeks ago.

    Still, I vote for Larsson. It does mess with one’s mind, doesn’t it?

  6. knock, knock. KNOCK, KNOCK. :)

  7. I hate it when you can’t shake off a dream. It’s about as bad as a hangover. I don’t have any interpretations… unless a certain Bird has gone transatlantic? ;)

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