Dream Journal
October 1, 1999
I was in a sandy square in a small Western town. I held my severed left thumb in my hand — or more likely, something in my hand had melted into a small thumb-sized object that I took to be my severed thumb. It appeared to be severed at the top knuckle. There was no blood, just the end of a thumb, severed like cut clay, and of course there was no pain. So I’m curious, and then I think, “How does not having a thumb affect my life?” I ponder the implications. “I can still write, as my right-hand thumb is fine. . . . Oh no! I can’t play piano!” Then I panic. I shout and run about calling for doctors and asking people to call a doctor or hospital. Soon I’ve gathered a crowd, including one doctor. As my friends looked at my “severed thumb,” the cut part now began to sport a thick bloody gash, looking more real.
About here I had a revelation. I popped the thumb-end back on my thumb-nub and it attached. I was kind of alone at this point, off to the side of the others. The blood was gone again but the thumb end fell off when I bent it. The doctor saw it after I stuck it on and the moment he did, reddish pinkish “blood” that was thick like jelly appeared around the severed area. Did his expectations directly affect my thought form? So he wanted to sew it up and I ran away saying “Ha! You want to stick your needles in me and sew it up? I don’t think so!”
Then a police officer who had also been attracted to the scene walked up beside me, intrigued, and for some reason he looked at my thumb and the blood was blue! So he called me an alien. Laughing, I stopped and looked into a building. The inside was dark, and filled with horribly funny-looking aliens (like from Mars Attacks but more bloated) and machines from the 50s. I winked and nodded toward the room, hoping the officer would see and freak out. That distraction allowed my thumb to naturally return to normal. Noticing this, I circled back to the doctor and held up my flawless healed thumb before him, smiled smugly, and galloped off.
Severed Thumb?: This was certainly a melted thought form that I took to be a severed thumb. I don’t think it’s possible to sever a part of the astral body. One can easily deform their astral body to make it look like they’d lost a thumb if they expected and believed that. Interestingly, this outside astral matter also doesn’t seem to want to join to my astral body.
Multiple Influences on a Thought Form: Here’s an interesting example of the expectations of multiple people changing a single thought form. On my own, I took it for a severed thumb but without any blood or injury. But as I explained it to others and they looked at it, it took on a wound and blood. The doctor’s expectations added even more blood, and the police man’s weird expectations made the blood blue. Thought forms are communal property. One person’s thought form can be transformed or reanimated by someone else’s expectations.
Distraction: Upon being distracted, my astral body takes on its usual form again, and my thumb is just like it’s always been.
The easily-distracted nature of the waking self causes us to release thought forms quickly from our previous focus.
Waking Perspective: I’m just fine with this severed thumb until I run it across my waking perspective, and then I freak out when I realize the physical implications. Once again this affects the course of the dream.