Med­it­a­tion train­ing. The task is for the group to med­it­ate on three state­ments pinned up on sheets of paper, which read as fol­lows: 1. Everything is a lie, even the truth is a lie; 2. Atti­tude is the fact itself! and 3. I love you!

The first state­ment is extremely destruct­ive. If it were true – that is, if everything is a lie – then it is a self-con­tra­dic­tion, and if it is not true – that is, if there is some­thing that is not a lie – then it is a self-con­tra­dic­tion too, for then the state­ment is false. But if it is false, then the state­ment that everything is false is true.

Now rack your brains over that, you fool, instead of tear­ing down the paper and tramp­ling on it, and so voicing your protest against the smear cam­paign of this prim­it­ive para­dox. Not to men­tion how doubt-sow­ing, demean­ing and destruct­ive it is to call truth itself into ques­tion. It is demean­ing to the truth, but to you as well, and to who­ever thought it up.

How­ever true the second remark may seem – though on the strength of the first state­ment we know that everything is a lie, so the atti­tude is a lie too, and the pro­pos­i­tion is a lie too, that is, the atti­tude is not a fact! – it is in any case so feeble that it is not even worth both­er­ing with. And the third pro­pos­i­tion is so syr­upy that the flies have stuck to the sheet it is writ­ten on.

Mean­while, dur­ing the morn­ing walk­ing med­it­a­tion, one must circle anti­clock­wise for hours, med­it­at­ing on the three state­ments above.

And this, be it known, is the reverse dir­ec­tion! The Sun rises in the east and travels towards the west, and this is the aus­pi­cious dir­ec­tion, which is why the hands of the clock move the way they do. In the Far East they know that the Sun's course is the aus­pi­cious dir­ec­tion, the way of life, of con­scious­ness, of ascent, the way of the gods. The oppos­ite dir­ec­tion is the way of shad­ow, of dis­in­teg­ra­tion, of des­cent, of death, the way of the demons.

So what hap­pens? You rack your brains over the first pro­pos­i­tion: there is no truth – true? And you set out on the path of dark­ness and loss of con­scious­ness. This way, of course, you will hardly find any firm footholds, and you will have to base your world view not on the motto cogito ergo sum, I think, there­fore I am, but on the idea of dubito ergo sum, that is, I doubt, there­fore I am. As if over the last three hun­dred years man­kind had been mov­ing against the Sun's course and had laid the found­a­tion for the ‘truth’ of doubt.

As you make your rounds, every firm con­vic­tion in you dis­in­teg­rates more and more, doubt grows ever stronger, and all the while you nod to your­self: Yes, yes, doubt! How true, there really is no truth!! If you go on like this, soon­er or later you will find total dis­in­teg­ra­tion too, and even if today you still laugh at the whole thing, soon the smile will freeze on your lips…

Then your gaze, already a little crazed, flashes upon the second state­ment: atti­tude! Yes, how­ever much the first state­ment has relativ­ised every fact, the second obser­va­tion still holds true for you. The atti­tude of tread­ing the circles of dis­in­teg­ra­tion like an obed­i­ent sheep, of tak­ing in doubt without a thought, and of choos­ing inner divi­sion as your world view – instead of doubt­ing the sound­ness of the cun­ning state­ment and, show­ing the only rel­ev­ant atti­tude, tear­ing down the big-char­ac­ter poster, or at least chan­ging dir­ec­tion and walk­ing against the rest of the dim-wit­ted sheep – well, this atti­tude test­i­fies to agree­ment, and that is a fact. Not to under­stand­ing, not to eso­ter­ic learn­ing, still less to occult pro­fi­ciency, no, only to your being a dim-wit­ted sheep.

Finally you receive the coup de grâce: I love you! Who loves, and whom? Does who­ever tossed these lun­acies your way love you? Do you love doubt and inner divi­sion? And do you not doubt the ‘truth’ of love? Total con­fu­sion… Be con­sist­ent, tear the veil from these attract­ive but false brain-teas­ers, doubt the doubt­ing, and com­mit your­self not to the whirl­pool of mad­ness but to truth.