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The World Of Thoguhts, The Minds Of People is a full package of knowledgeable insight of who we are, how we live and why we live the way we live. This is the book that contains idealogies aimed at transforming and furnishing your life wholly. It unveils to you what 'thoughts and minds' are, and exhibits the power of positive thinking.
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Liteboho Seotlo
Liteboho holds LLB from the National University of Lesotho. He is a prolific writer and a celebrated author especially in Lesotho
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The World of Thoughts, The Minds of People - Liteboho Seotlo
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise , be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise be circulated without express consent of the author.
Cover Design by TwoFourDesign
INTRODUCTION
I have been a stranger for a very protracted time, living by myself in a miniscule two-roomed house. From the end term of primary school up until the commencement of university, approximately six years of seclusion.
Having being born illegitimate, I had only to see my mother once a month, who was constantly being kept away by her job. As for my father, seeing him is another story I will not narrate. I lacked parental guidance, mother being kept away and no father.
I was a sibling to myself, no person to argue with, or chat with, or boss and fight around. And as it is familiar that the children cause trauma at homes, I had not participated in any natural kiddy drama. Therefore, I talked to myself, argued to myself, bossed myself and fought myself.
The situation I had been in is unimaginable; me, myself and I living alone, no sibling, no toys, it is just me and me by myself. Not to mention devices that are of course an achievement, I would not complain about them because it was comprehensible that my mother could surely lack money to purchase them, but there are elementary essentials needed as children; socializing, interacting and playing are a few amongst them.
As a result, I grew a habit of isolation. I had not friends. We did play as neighborhood children, but I do not recall having someone I specifically relied on for my childhood growth, the person whom I could name a friend, a person I could have decent, intriguing chats with, as well as resolutions to the encounters I had.
Relatives! I disliked them, probably because of what has grown inside of me. I did not comprehend them just as I did not comprehend my neighbors. As I grew in solitude, the things that entertained them did not entertain me. I put to myself that I would not exchange my thoughts on matters I knew not. If the family specialized in gossip, I did not know how to gossip because I had no body to gossip with at home.
My morals were dissimilar to theirs, I would not bear the burden of just grinning over the views of others while in fact I did not know what they were talking about, or specifically when to forge a grin. Pretty obvious I would giggle over the matters they did not consider comical and in the end I would embarrass myself. It was better then to draw lines between things I could not handle and be myself.
Being myself observably meant me being alone and me being alone meant me overthinking. There are those things which will never cease to operate, worse being alone. Thinking is something we cannot control. Even if we are trying to stay away from things in our life, we simply cannot stop thinking, if we try to stay away from the practically dreadful sites of our lives we might not want to face, we however cannot stop thinking.
Thinking cannot be controlled but discerning can be controlled. You cannot help that you are thinking, it is a natural thing every human does but you can control discernment. What worse could be for someone who was always stranded?
Because of solitude, I surpassed the natural point of thinking and came to the extreme point of thinking, the point of discernment. I thought over everything, over life, I asked myself endless questions.
What would one surely expect of a person who spent most of his time alone? Definitely to think and think and overthink. Well, as for me I overthought. I could not help, there is nothing I could do about it and honestly, it was not very much easy for me.
I remember that one day I was thinking about death. I do not think I have never been that edgy in my life, I have never been so much afraid of death. I could not understand why I was here on earth and yet to die again. I could not follow in the so called eternity, why would someone just live for what is 0.0...1% of this eternity portion.
It was useless to have been here on earth because after all I was going to die, worst thing being that I suffered to die, what was the use of living, live to suffer and suffer to death? Of course, I suffered from what people called depression, loneliness, and lie. Lie because I came from a disadvantaged family, and I always had to twist things up for my survival, and so that I could be acceptable in the eyes of my friends. And I know very well I had been lying through my entire High school about the death of my father so that I could not be disgraced. Having being born illegitimate, which many people around me had somewhat thoughts about it, brought tears in my eyes, I thought lying was the only possible way of eluding the psychological attack and threat thrown upon me, and I lied.
What mostly put me at unease was the idea of death; whether we were going to die and vanish like uprooted weeds when we die, or we were still going to live after death. Were all the memories about life to exists, if we live after death, or were they going to fade away, as though nothing had happened, or maybe we would never ever to come back to life again?
I always thought my head was going to burst each time the thought came in my mind. I would feel so disappointed about that thing, that which made the earth.
I was very disappointed at God, to make the world, if it were really true that He is the one who made this universe. I wandered, ‘so he made the universe and then left us to suffer and die? He is such an ignorant arrogant selfish God, why did he even make us, He is omnipresent and omnipotent as they say, why should we suffer this way while He is all Powerful resistant God?
And because there were numerous flying opinions about death and live, the other frightening notion was that if I be eternal, in regard to religion, where I would go after death, am I going to hell or heaven, eternal misery or eternal glory, as mainly portrayed. The questions I always wanted answer to put me at unease.
If I had to be alone I had to think and because I was always alone I was always thinking, and the thinking was never a natural thinking.
It was the same lifestyle even at school, I wanted to know everything. Why was that teacher looking at me, ‘I wandered over everything’, why did he not look at somebody else? Why was I at that particular school, why not the other school? Why Assumption High School not St. Agnes High School? Was this the walk of purpose, or the walk of life? What if I did not attend this school, what if I attended the other school, would my purpose be devastated?
If there is really purpose in life, is it a singled route, that we should all walk, and that if you have lost your way, or missed some step then you cannot reach it again. If achieving my life is attending Assumption High School, will I be doomed if I happen to go to another school. If I had to go to St. Agnes, and I am here sprawling at Assumption, am I for this reason doomed?
If education is life and if I have not properly attended my lectures, is then my life catastrophic?
Why did the principal say that, is this the very same thing he said to our brothers? Why did my classmates gossip, why actually did people gossip? Why did some students consider themselves superior than the others, why did other students have to concede that they are inferior, what actually attested to the superiority and inferiority of the people, was it actually true that there are some who are superior while some are inferior?
Why do I have to go to school, why do we have to spent this countless hours in a classroom, well, does this tip me to my real life with purpose. What about those people who thoroughly went through their studies but are in dire need of myriad things, what about them? They want to taste the sweeter portion of life and above all regret the minutes they had wasted preparing for school. They had also wasted time travelling to various schools, spending their golden times in miniscule classrooms, however to end on the obnoxious sides of live, without any better outcome. Then why do we have to be taught this one same thing over and over? Is it not vivid and undeniable that this is the dead end?
Why am i this sad while I was delighted a second ago? What is sadness, what is happiness? How do I be happy and how do I be sad? Why do people be happy, is it possible to be permanently happy, why do people be gloomy, I know very well that it is likely that one can be permanently miserable, but what really contributes to temporary and permanent gloominess.
I had something special that occupied my mind, that which I always thought about and that which I had wholly put my discernment over. What was in my head were questions which needed answers, the questions that though seemed uninteresting and illogical, held the utmost and ultimate resolves to the world.
Maybe if I had a brother, I would not be immersed in this turmoil. If I had a brother, I would enquire of him this countless questions that I acutely wanted answers to. Maybe his response would take me away from them, maybe he would deliver me out of this havoc stuck in my head, and maybe as brothers do, he would reply, ‘ will you stop with your useless endless questions, let’s go partying, let’s go see new girls...’
But things were not that way and things did not go that way, and because I had no brother I had not even a company, hence I had no solution to what was in front of me. Even if I tried to deviate myself from these endless questions, it could only be for a while, and because I had no steady idea to resort myself to, and thinking was my only business, I always failed and I found myself stuck in a closet with this devil!
How I grew made me a very questioning person. As I have indicated that I had no other job, no friends and any stuff to keep me tied up, what I normally did was pay attention to anything happening and try to analyze it, try to reason it out, try to find the roots of it. I would try to know why everything happened, and I mean everything.
At times I would pick an incident, maybe what happened to me or what happened to someone else. I would put it in my brain, try to argue myself over it and try to reason out what had happened, ultimately trying to find the logic over what happened.
I would try to figure out why such thing happened, what could have been done to evade that particular something, how long would it take to do that, signs that something was going to happen, why did it happen that way, why not that other way, when did it happen, and list of questions is endless.
It would be haunting to find real answers to questions I wanted to know, and yet, surprisingly, I would finally find answers. At times, I would think I had found the last ancestral answer from the bunch of generational questions, and amidst that, maybe while I am still washing the dishes, one question would abruptly pop in my head which opposed a conclusion I had met. ‘Geez, that
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