This magical world we all live in.

Hello dear friends from throughout the interweb,

I'm writing this blog as an assignment for the course "Communicative skills as a European Teacher". Saying this however does not mean that I am not looking forward to posting my thoughts. Yet it isn't a promise for keeping true to blogspot and to become an eager blogger either.

Enough gibberish! First of all I must explain to you that, for the course communicative skills, I'm obliged to blog weekly. Although I'd like to blog about anything that comes to mind, this will not be appreciated by my high school-educator. So for most of my blogs, I'm restricted to talking about the course content and the thoughts that spiral out of it. 

The following poem illustrates the essence and introduction of the course and will therefore be the first subject of my blogging. 

Not only has Rudyard Kipling written this profound poem. He's also the writer of some more easy-going stories like for instance: "The Jungle Book".  Can’t we find any similarities? A young boy, Mowgli, growing up in a place where he does not belong, searching and experiencing life in a most unusual way. In the end, he could be the only one understanding the true nature of a human being – or should I say being human? This little fellow was part of more than just one tiny culture. He has seen through the WE and the THEY and has maybe even experienced an US? - A feeling that lots of people won’t comprehend on a global scale. Who are ‘they’ who don’t care to look around the corner  or are not interested in those who live at other seas; and who are they who live at other seas … who are they?

Am I really asking the right question here?

I believe all people are intentionally good and have no purpose for generating evil in this beautiful place we call Earth. It is just that experience has so many influences, and some of us cling so hard on bad memories and creepy bedtime stories. While I’m hoping you understand this thought of mine, a following pattern reveals: The ones influenced by ‘the dark side’ are the ones who are scared of the unknown. Not saying I don’t have any fear, but can you imagine this thin line when something you don’t know gets so interesting you just have to explore it, even when it’s scary?

In essence I’m just saying that I’m trying to understand the problems we have in this multicultural society. Sure, they had their reasons for developing but none of us should be so blind to be scared of things just because they are unknown. There could be a sweet pop-tart in every box you open, behind every corner you look or within every person you meet. Stop the eternal rambling of those who speak of nothing more than a WE and a THEY and just as Mr. Kipling, try to look on we as a sort of they. In the end it is we, who populate this planet. This “we” is not just you and me, or a chicken and a cow. It is every living and breathing specimen, every tree and every flower. ‘They’ won’t stop providing our oxygen nor our food, and all we have to do is stop once in a while and comprehend the magical world we ALL live in.

Start exploring the world because it’s a beautiful place.

To end my first blog: another poem of Rudyard Kipling.  Just because I like kissing teacher ass and because expressing some metro sexuality is hip in old Belgium. In general I’m just pleasantly surprised by his work.

For those who think this is all some hippie crying bullshit please comment and illustrate your thoughts around this matter.

For the others:

Thanks for reading!

Most sincerely,

Peter Le Page

If – Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!