Kneecaps: A Dream About Movement, Surrender, and Soul-Led Change

Karen Di Gloria
Jul 20
3 min read

—a journaled transmission

Last night I had many dreams,

but what I woke up remembering most—what lingered—was the image of kneecaps.

Not as body parts. Not as something anatomical or painful.

But as something symbolic.

A pair of kneecaps, being removed, repurposed, redefined.

No longer part of a body. Now something else.

Something . . . functional.

Something used to move things forward.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about movement. About what moves me.

And what no longer does.

It’s been one week since I gave my notice at a job that—if I’m honest—was never aligned with my truth.

It served me, yes. Gave me structure. Stability.

But not the kind that nourishes the soul.

It began to feel like I was crawling on hardened knees.

Trying to move forward through systems and roles that asked me to shrink, to smile, to show up—and not feel too much.

But now—

Now something inside me is demanding I feel everything.

Speak what’s raw.

Write what’s real.

Let the soul direct the steps.

And then these kneecaps arrive in a dream.

Not mine. Not anyone’s. Just . . . there.

Being transferred from body to something unseen, unbodied—

something not of this world but still designed to carry weight, to move intention forward.

It felt like a message. A whisper. Maybe even a benediction:

“You no longer need to walk the old way. The tools have changed.”

Maybe it’s not about grinding through the next thing.

Maybe it’s about allowing movement through surrender.

Through voice. Through vibration. Through truth.

Maybe kneecaps were never just cartilage and bone—

maybe they were always symbolic of humble power—

the power of bending, yielding, praying . . . before we rise.

And isn’t it something—how just two days ago, Mercury went retrograde in Leo—

the sign of voice, expression, truth-telling, heart?

The cosmos echo what the soul already knows:

It’s time to speak from the fire within.

So here I am.

One week into my own unraveling.

One week deeper into devotion.

On the edge of a new language.

Learning to walk again—

not with legs,

but with light.

With intuition.

With invisible kneecaps that know exactly how to move what’s real forward.

The Symbolism of Kneecaps

(notes from the waking side of the dream)

After journaling, I felt compelled to explore the deeper symbolism behind kneecaps.

Why kneecaps? Why not feet, or legs, or something more obvious?

Here’s what I uncovered:

Humility & Surrender
Knees are what we bend when we pray. They’re the physical seat of surrender, reverence, and devotion.
Kneecaps are the protectors of that sacred posture. They allow us to kneel without breaking.
Flexibility & Forward Motion
Kneecaps are essential for walking, rising, dancing, and kneeling.
They bridge motion with stability. They represent the tools we use to move forward—not forcefully, but fluidly.
Strength + Vulnerability
The kneecap is exposed, easy to injure—and yet it protects one of the most important hinges in the body.
Spiritually, it mirrors the balance of protecting your softness while still moving through the world.
Duality: Two Kneecaps, One Path
The appearance of two kneecaps may reflect the need for balance—
Masculine + Feminine. Seen + Unseen. Action + Rest.
Maybe even a sign that the physical and spiritual are being integrated in a new way.

An Invitation to You

Maybe this dream wasn’t just for me.

Maybe you’ve had a symbol appear in your dream recently—

something that felt random, quiet, or seemingly insignificant.

But it stayed with you.

I believe those are the things to listen to.

They’re not just thoughts.

They’re messengers.

Sometimes it’s the smallest, most ordinary object in a dream—a button, a bone, a feather—that carries the loudest spiritual meaning.

We don’t always get thunder.

Sometimes we get kneecaps.

So the next time something sticks with you from a dream:

Write it down. Even if it makes no sense. Especially if it doesn’t.
Sit with it. Where do you feel it in your body? What does it remind you of?
Reflect or research. Explore spiritual, emotional, or mythological meanings.
Ask: What might this mean for me, right now?
Honor the silence. Go outside. Let nature speak. It always does.