The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Fifth Lecture

[ 1 ] I have attempted to describe how one might, for example, shape a three-part lecture from a single idea and then structure it accordingly. What I said included both general points that can be made about the social organism as a whole, as well as indications of what might be covered in the first two parts—namely, the discussion of spiritual life and the discussion of the legal-state organism. You will have seen from this how one can proceed when preparing the content for such a lecture.

[ 2 ] Well, one can also prepare oneself for the “how” by immersing oneself in the thoughts and feelings, and we will perhaps understand each other best if I say that preparation for the “how” should consist of striving to already feel—and then also to speak—that which pertains to spiritual life in a more lyrical language — without, of course, resorting to singing or the like, or to recitation — in a lyrical language, with quiet enthusiasm, so that one reveals, through the very way one presents things, that everything one has to say about spiritual life comes from within oneself. One should certainly evoke the mental image that one is enthusiastic about what one advocates for the spiritual part of the social organism. Of course, it must not be a false, mystical, or sentimental enthusiasm, nor must it be feigned enthusiasm. We achieve this by first preparing ourselves—even if only in our imagination and inner experience, right down to the tone of voice—for how something like this might be said. I say explicitly: “how something like this might be said”—for the reason that we should never commit ourselves to the exact wording; rather, what we are preparing is, so to speak, a speech that takes place solely in thought, and we are fully prepared to express what we then say in a different formulation.

[ 3 ] But when we talk about legal relationships, we should certainly try to speak in a dramatic way. That is to say: When we speak about the equality of human beings, illustrating this with examples, we should try to put ourselves in the other person’s shoes as much as possible. For example, we should conjure up the mental image of someone seeking work and asserting their right to that work in the spirit of the “Key Points of the Social Question.” And then, in a sense, while making it clear on the one hand that we are speaking from the other person’s perspective—from their legal claim—we should then demonstrate how, through a subtle change in tone of voice, we shift to explaining why such a claim must be fulfilled on the basis of universal human principles. Thus, dramatic speech—very strongly modulated dramatic speech—that evokes in the listeners the feeling that one can empathize with the inner lives of other people—that is what we should employ when speaking about legal relationships.

[ 4 ] And when speaking about economic conditions, the main point is that we are speaking entirely from experience. In fact, when discussing economic conditions in the context of the threefold social order, one should not give the impression that there could even be such a thing as a theoretical national economy. Rather, one should limit oneself primarily to describing cases from economic life itself—whether these are cases that are recounted or cases that are constructed as they ought to be or could be. But in the latter cases—those that ought to be or could be—one must never lose sight of speaking from economic experience. In fact, when speaking about economic life, one should speak in an epic manner. Precisely when presenting what is set forth in the “Key Points of the Social Question,” one should speak as if one actually had no preconceived notions about economic life at all, as if one did not believe that things should be this way or that way, but rather as if one were letting the facts speak for themselves.

[ 5 ] One can certainly evoke a certain feeling that, for example, it is right to transfer the management of capital from someone who is no longer personally involved to someone who, in turn, can be involved. But one can only speak of such a thing if one presents it to people by describing what happens when there are merely blood ties, and what can happen when such a transfer takes place, as described in “The Key Points of the Social Question.” It is only by presenting this to people in a very vivid way—as if transcribing reality—that one can speak in such a way that the discourse is truly rooted in economic life. And it is precisely through this that one will also make the idea of association understandable and plausible. One will make it plausible that the individual actually knows nothing at all about economic life, that he is, in essence, entirely dependent on communicating with others if he wishes to form a judgment about what must happen in economic life—so that a genuine economic judgment can actually only ever emerge from groups of people, and one is therefore dependent on associations.

[ 6 ] People might be more understanding if one points out that much of what exists today actually arose from old, instinctive associations. Just consider how today’s abstract market brings together things whose combination—and subsequent redistribution to consumers—cannot be fully grasped. But how did this market relationship come about in the first place? Essentially, it arose from an instinctive association, in which a number of villages were situated at such a distance—close enough to walk to and from in a single day—around a larger town, and people exchanged their products there. This was not called an “association.” Not a single word was spoken; but in reality, it was an instinctive association. The people who gathered here for the market were associated with all those who lived in the surrounding villages. They could count on a certain level of sales, which was based on experience. Therefore, they were able to regulate production according to consumption within very dynamic relationships. In such primitive economies, associative relationships certainly existed, even if they were not explicitly described as such.

[ 7 ] All of this has become unmanageable with the expansion of economic territories, and has become particularly meaningless in the context of the global economy. The global economy—which, after all, only emerged in the last third of the 19th century—has reduced everything to the abstract, that is, in economic life, to the mere turnover of money or monetary value, until this very reduction has been taken to its logical extreme.

[ 8 ] Isn’t it true that when Japan was at war with China and Japan won the war, it was very easy to pay the war reparations simply by having the Chinese minister hand the Japanese envoy a check, which the Japanese envoy could then deposit at a bank in Japan? That actually happened. That check contained value—namely, money and monetary value. It contained value. If you have a mental image of how everything would have had to be transferred from one territory to another back then, it would have been very difficult under modern conditions. But because of the way Japan and China were integrated into the global economy, it was possible to do so. But that ultimately led to absurdity. In trade between Germany and France, this proved no longer feasible. So I believe the best way to discuss these matters is from the perspective of economic interdependencies, and then to explain the necessity of the associative principle.

[ 9 ] Then, particularly with regard to economic life, this material will have to be reorganized to some extent, and we will then have to move on to a few concluding sentences, which, as I have already mentioned, should be written word for word—or at least almost word for word.

[ 10 ] So what does preparing for a speech actually look like? Well, one should try as much as possible to put oneself in the situation—or in the context for which the audience is prepared—by structuring the opening sentences in whatever way one deems necessary. It will require more effort with a completely unprepared audience, and less effort when speaking to a group that is already familiar with the subject matter—or at least shares the relevant sentiments regarding the demands you are making. In that case, you will neither write out the rest of the speech nor jot down mere catchphrases. Experience shows that writing out the speech word for word leads just as little to a good speech as merely jotting down catchphrases. The reason for not writing it out is not because it ties one down and thereby easily leads to embarrassment when one’s memory falters—which is most likely to happen precisely when the speech is written out word for word. Key phrases very easily lead one to make the entire preparation too abstract. On the other hand, what is best to write down—and to bring along as a manuscript if you need to stick to something like that—is a series of properly formulated sentences as key points, which do not claim to be spoken exactly as written as part of the speech, but rather stand there as: first, second, third, fourth, and so on—which, in a sense, provide distillations, so that one sentence might become ten, or eight, or twelve. But write down such sentences. So don’t write down, for example, “Spiritual life as independent,” but rather “Spiritual life can only flourish when it acts freely and independently from within itself.” In other words, pithy phrases. If you do this, you will find for yourself that such pithy phrases are the very best way to attain, in a relatively short time, a certain capacity for free speech—one that is guided solely by the structure of these pithy phrases.

[ 11 ] For the conclusion, it is often very effective to return, in a certain way—at least subtly—to the beginning; that is, when the conclusion contains, in a certain way, something that was already present as a motif in the beginning.

[ 12 ] And then such key phrases easily give one the opportunity to truly prepare oneself as was suggested earlier, by writing these key phrases down on one’s little piece of paper. So, let’s say you consider the following: What you have to say about spiritual life must have a kind of lyrical character within you; what you have to say about legal life must have a kind of dramatic character within you; and what you have to say about economic life must have a narrative-epic character—a calm, narrative-epic character—within you. - Then, in fact, a certain instinctive inclination will emerge—and the art will also emerge—to develop, in the formulation of these key phrases, something like what I have indicated. The preparation will take place quite intuitively, so that the way one speaks actually grows into what one has to say in terms of content.

[ 13 ] To do this, however, it is necessary to have, so to speak, brought what language mastery is supposed to be to the level of, I would say, instinct—that is, to actually feel the speech organs in the same way one would feel a hammer, for example, when one wants to do something with it. You can achieve this by doing a little “language gymnastics.”

[ 14 ] Isn't it true that when you practice gymnastics, those aren't movements you'll actually use in real life, but they are movements that make you supple and agile? And in the same way, you should make your speech organs supple and flexible. But this process of making them supple and flexible must be connected to one’s inner soul life, so that one learns to feel the sound as one speaks. In the seminar course I held for Waldorf teachers in Stuttgart more than two years ago, I compiled a series of such speech exercises, which I would also like to share with you here. They are designed so that, for the most part, their content does not distract one from immersing oneself purely in the element of speech, but rather focuses solely on practicing speech exercises. If you try to say these sentences aloud again and again, but in such a way that you are always asking yourself: How can you best use your tongue, how can you best use your lips, to produce precisely this sequence of sounds? — then you become independent of the act of speaking itself, and then you can place all the more emphasis on the spiritual preparation for speaking.

[ 15 ] So I will provide you with a series of such examples to help you make your speech flow smoothly.

[ 16 ] The fact that he lied to you is no reason for us to praise him

[ 17 ] is the simplest. Here's a slightly more complicated one:

[ 18 ] Don't put nuns in tireless mills

[ 19 ] And one should strive more and more to adapt the speech organs—to soften, bend, hollow out, and elevate them—in accordance with the sequence of sounds. Another example:

[ 20 ] Solve several of my puzzles correctly

[ 21 ] Of course, it is not enough to say something like this once or ten times; rather, it must be said again and again. For even though the speech organs are already flexible, they can still become even more flexible.

[ 22 ] Here is an example that I believe is particularly useful:

[ 23 ] Truly wise
Gloriously armed
Vengefully mighty
Rolling calmly
Penitent steeds

[ 24 ] This also gives you the opportunity to regulate your breathing during the breaks—something you need to pay attention to, and which can be achieved very effectively through this kind of exercise.

[ 25 ] In a similar way—not all letters, not all sounds have the same value in this exercise—you make progress when, for example, you have the following:

[ 26 ] Boastfully praising
Spas with fervor
Noisily charming
Diligently crafting
Powdered to perfection
Mountainously proud

[ 27 ] If you manage to gradually get the hang of this sequence of sounds, you'll benefit greatly from it.

[ 28 ] Once you have practiced these exercises, you can also try the exercises that naturally lead to infusing emotion into the pronunciation of the sounds. I have attempted to provide an example below of how sounds can flow into the emotional tone:

[ 29 ] Fulfillment comes
Through hope
Through longing
Through will

[ 30 ] and now it becomes more about the sound itself, which is precisely what captures the mood within the sound itself:

[ 31 ] We want to blow
In the weaving
Blowing in the trembling
Weaving, trembling
Weaving, binding
In the finding
Finding, winding
Proclaiming

[ 32 ] You will always notice, when you do these particular exercises, how you are able to regulate your breathing—without it getting in the way—simply by focusing on the sounds. In recent times, all sorts of more or less clever methods have been devised for breathing and for all manner of things that accompany speaking and singing. But all of this is actually useless, because speaking—along with everything that goes with it, including breathing—should be learned entirely through the act of speaking itself. That is to say, one should learn to speak in such a way that, in response to the necessities dictated by the sequence of sounds and the context of the words, the breath regulates itself naturally. One should therefore learn to breathe while speaking only through the act of speaking itself. Speech exercises should thus be designed so that, when one perceives them correctly in terms of sound—not in terms of content, but in terms of sound—one is compelled, through this correct perception of sound, to regulate one’s breath correctly as well.

[ 33 ] As for the content, the following saying already captures the mood. It has four lines. These four lines are arranged in such a way that they form, so to speak, a crescendo. Each line creates a sense of anticipation. And the fifth line is the conclusion and brings fulfillment. Now you should strive to truly carry out this rhythmic pattern of speech that I have just described. The verse reads:

[ 34 ] In the immeasurably vast expanses,
In the endless ages,
In the depths of the human soul,
In the revelation of the worlds:
Seek the solution to the great mystery

[ 35 ] There, you have the fifth line as the fulfillment of that gradual build-up of anticipation set in motion in the first four lines.

[ 36 ] Now one can also try—yes, I would say—to incorporate the mood of the situation into the tone of voice, into the manner of speaking, into the way one speaks. And for this purpose, I have devised the following exercise. Imagine a rather large green frog sitting in front of you with its mouth open. So imagine a huge frog with its mouth open, standing right in front of you. And now imagine what kinds of emotions you might feel toward this frog. Among those emotions will be humor and various other feelings; bring them to life quite vividly within your soul. Then address this frog as follows:

[ 37 ] Sweet little songs
Lipplicher Laffe
Shabby and ragged
Laichiger Lurch

[ 38 ] Just imagine: a field with a horse walking across it. The content doesn't matter. Of course, you have to create a mental image of the horses neighing! Now describe the situation you have here as follows:

[ 39 ] Whistling cleverly
Prancing horses
Tending plows
Enclosing peaches

[ 40 ] and then vary it by speaking like this:

[ 41 ] Whistling cleverly from bowls
Horses hatching like chicks
Hopping playfully on plows
Tying peaches in a pen

[ 42 ] And then—but please, learn this by heart so that you can say both forms fluently one after the other—there is also a third form. Memorize all three, and try to speak them so fluently that you never get confused between one form and another when speaking. That’s what matters here. For the third form, use:

[ 43 ] Whistling cleverly from bowls
Horses hatching from bowls
Bobbing, tending, plows hopping
Tapping, penning, peaches knotting

[ 44 ] So, one after the other, so that you can memorize the three forms, so that one never interferes with the other.

[ 45 ] You can do something similar with the following two sayings, for example:

[ 46 ] Heretics are now whining pitifully
Ultimately, slightly skeptical

[ 47 ] and now the other form:

[ 48 ] The heretics are now whining pitifully
Ultimately, suddenly a bit skeptical

[ 49 ] Once again, memorize it and repeat it out loud!

[ 50 ] You can make your speech more fluent by practicing the following, for example:

[ 51 ] Just don't ever feel regret
Grinning greedily
Snapping knots
Tying up collateral

[ 52 ] You have to get used to saying this sequence of sounds: “Nur renn...” You'll see what a difference these exercises make for your tongue and your speech organs.

[ 53 ] Now, a somewhat longer exercise of this kind, which can help bring about this fluidity in speech—I believe actors have since discovered that this is the best way to make their speech more fluid—:

[ 54 ] Though they force themselves against their will
Dual-purpose snappers are too few
Twenty dwarves
The sinewy crabs
Seek safety and feast
So that the munching lovers
Cuddle up as quickly as possible
And purr with delight

[ 55 ] Then: Sometimes you need quick thinking when speaking off the cuff. You can develop this skill, for example, by doing the following:

[ 56 ] Clip-clap-click-clack
Sounds just right
Clattering along
The clatter of hooves

[ 57 ] Next: to further illustrate presence of mind in speech, consider the following two examples, which can be combined:

[ 58 ] Snake, slither swiftly
Winding your way away

[ 59 ] It also includes the phrase “Wecken weg.” But then the same motif appears as a sound motif like this:

[ 60 ] Twisted Fundewecken
Quickly slither away, snake

[ 61 ] Now, regarding the need to strengthen language—so that one has the language to really knock someone down in a discussion—something like that is indeed necessary in language!—here is the following example:

[ 62 ] March of the pining
Rattling rascal
Chattering awkwardly
Darting away

[ 63 ] Then, for someone who stutters, the following two examples could be cited:

[ 64 ] Never take from me
What, watery
Reveals itself in parts

[ 65 ] This example is particularly helpful for anyone who stutters. You can also say it this way when you stutter:

[ 66 ] Never take from me
Watery wraps
What is hard to convey
With parts of your speech

[ 67 ] Of course, it depends on the stutterer making an effort. One should by no means believe that what I would like to call “speech gymnastics” can—or even should—be practiced only on sentences that make sense to the intellect. For in sentences that make sense to the intellect, the focus on meaning—at first unconsciously and instinctively—is too strong for us to properly account for the sounds, for the act of speaking itself. And it is indeed necessary that, when we want to speak, we also take into account that we must, in a certain sense, detach speech from ourselves—truly detach it from ourselves. Just as one can detach writing from oneself, so too can one detach speech from oneself.

[ 68 ] There are two ways for a person to write. One way is for a person to write selfishly—that is, to have the shapes of the letters, as it were, within their limbs and to let them flow out from those limbs. This style of writing was particularly common for a time—and is probably still the case today—especially when teaching writing to commercial clerks or similar professionals. For example, I once observed how such a writing class for commercial clerks was conducted in such a way that the participants had to form each letter from a kind of curve. They had to learn to make sweeping motions with their hand, then transfer those motions to paper, so that everything is in the hand and the limbs, and one is actually engaged in writing with nothing but the hand. Another way of writing is the non-egoistic, selfless way of writing. It consists in writing not with the hand, but with the eye, so you’re always looking at it and, in essence, drawing the letter, so that the hand’s natural movement plays only a minor role—you’re essentially proceeding just as you would when drawing, where you don’t have a handwriting style that enslaves you, but where, little by little, you find it difficult even to write your own name the way you used to. For most people, it is, after all, so incredibly easy to write their name the way they’ve always written it. It just flows from their hand. But people who infuse their handwriting with something artistic—they write with their eyes. They follow the stroke with their eyes. That is where handwriting truly becomes distinct from the person. Then the person can—although it is not desirable in a certain sense to practice this—imitate styles of writing and vary them in various ways. I’m not saying that one should specifically practice this, but I am saying that it emerges as an extreme when one paints one’s handwriting. That is the more selfless form of writing. Writing that comes from the limbs, on the other hand, is the self-centered, the egotistical.

[ 69 ] For most people, speech is also selfish. It simply flows out of the speech organs. However, you can gradually get into the habit of perceiving your speech as if it were actually wafting around you, as if the words were flying around you. You can truly develop a sense of your words. That is when speech becomes separate from the person. It becomes objective. The person instinctively hears themselves speaking. As it were, their head grows larger as they speak, and they feel the weaving of sounds and words all around them. They gradually learn to listen to the sounds, to the words. And that is precisely what can be achieved through such exercises. As a result, however, one does not merely bellow into a room—and by “bellowing” I do not mean merely shouting loudly; one can also bellow in a lisping manner, even when speaking only to oneself, just as it comes out of the speech organs—but rather, one truly lives in the space while speaking. You feel, so to speak, the resonance within the space. In certain modern theories of speech—theories of speech teaching or language learning, if you will—this has devolved into stammering nonsense, in that people are made to speak using bodily resonances, abdominal resonances, nasal resonances, and so on. All these internal resonances, however, are a vice. True resonance can only be one that is experienced. But one does not feel this, for example, in the sound striking the inside of the nose; rather, one feels it first in front of the nose, on the outside. So that speech actually gains something from fullness. The speaker’s speech should become full in the first place. The speaker should swallow as little as possible.

[ 70 ] Do not think that this is insignificant for the speaker; on the contrary, it is of the utmost importance. For whether we are able to convey something to people in the right way depends entirely on how we are able to relate to language itself. Of course, one doesn’t have to go as far as an actor who was once a friend of mine, who never said “Freunderl” but always “Freunderl,” because he wanted to put his whole self into every syllable. He took that to the extreme. But one should certainly develop the instinctive ability not to swallow syllables, syllable forms, or syllable structures. You can do this by trying to immerse yourself in rhythmic language in such a way that you recite it to yourself, paying close attention to the entire sound structure:

[ 71 ] And it churns and boils and roars and hisses,
As if water were mingling with fire...

[ 72 ] In other words: immersing oneself not only in the sound as such, but also in the sound’s form—in its roundness and angularity.

[ 73 ] If anyone believes they can become a speaker without attaching importance to this, they are laboring under the same delusion as a human soul that, between death and rebirth, has reached the point of descending to Earth but refuses to incarnate because it does not wish to accept the physical forms of the stomach, the lungs, the kidneys, and so on. The point is, in fact, that everything that actually shapes speech must be drawn upon in order to speak.

[ 74 ] One should therefore attach importance to the organism of language and its genius. One should not forget that this emphasis on the organism of language, on the genius of language, is creative in its imagery. Those who do not engage with language by listening inwardly will not conjure up images or thoughts; they will remain clumsy in their thinking and become abstract in their speech, if not downright pedantic. It is precisely in the experience of the phonetic and the imagery inherent in the formation of language itself that lies something which draws out of our soul even the thoughts we need to convey to our listeners. There is indeed something creative in the experience of the word as it relates to the inner human being. This should never be overlooked. It is extraordinarily important. We should be thoroughly guided by the sense of how the word, the sequence of words, the structure of words, and the structure of sentences are all interconnected with our entire being. Just as one can, in a sense, discern a person’s character from their physiognomy, so too—and I am not referring here to what they say to us, but to the manner of their speech—can one sense the whole person from the manner of their speech.

[ 75 ] But this “how” of language comes from the whole person. And it is certainly also a matter of our taking the physical body into account—in a lighthearted way, of course, not by treating ourselves as if we were patients, but in a lighthearted way. For example, it is good for someone who, due to upbringing or perhaps even heredity, is prone to speaking pedantically to try to break the habit by drinking stimulating tea from time to time. As I said, these things must be done with care. One kind of tea is good for one person, another kind for another. Ordinary tea, as I have often mentioned, is very good fare for diplomats: because diplomats must be witty—that is, they must chatter incoherently, one thing after another—and this must by no means be pedantic, but must exhibit the ease of transition from one sentence to the next. That is why tea is the diplomat’s drink. Coffee, however, fosters logic. That’s why journalists—who are usually not very logical by nature—very often write their articles in coffeehouses. Now, since the advent of the typewriter, things have changed somewhat; but in the past, you could encounter whole groups of journalists in coffeehouses, scratching away with their quills and sipping coffee, so that one thought could truly flow into the next. So, if you feel you’ve had too much of that tea-like stuff, then coffee is something that can have a balancing effect. But as I said, none of this is meant to be strictly medicinal, though it does lean in that direction. And if, for example, someone has a tendency to interject disruptive sounds into their speech—say, if someone says “he” after every third syllable or something similar—then I advise them to drink a weak senna leaf tea twice a week in the evening, and they’ll see what a beneficial effect it has.

[ 76 ] It’s certainly true: Since the things expressed in speech and language must come from the whole person, one must by no means neglect one’s diet. This is not merely generally the case. Of course, you can tell from the speech when it comes from someone who has let endless amounts of beer flow down his throat, or something similar. That is generally the case. Anyone with an ear for speech knows quite well whether a speaker is a tea drinker or a coffee drinker, whether he suffers from constipation or the opposite. In language, everything is expressed with absolute certainty, and all of this must certainly be taken into account. One gradually begins to intuitively attune oneself to these things when, as I said, one senses the language in one’s surroundings.

[ 77 ] However, different languages tend, in different ways and to varying degrees, to be heard in this way in their environment. A language like Latin is particularly well-suited to being heard. So does Italian. I mean here being heard objectively by the speaker himself. The English language, for example, is not very well suited to this, because as a spoken language it is very similar to writing that flows from the limbs. The more abstract languages become, the less suited they are to being heard internally, to becoming objective. How does the German *Nibelungenlied* still sound in older times:

In ancient tales	much has been told
of heroic deeds,	of great toil;
of joy and great feasts,	of weeping and lamentation,
of brave knights in battle	you may now hear wondrous tales.
There lived in Burgundy	a most noble maiden,
who in all the lands	could not be more beautiful,
named Kriemhilt;	she became a beautiful woman,
For this reason, many	had to lose their lives.

[ 78 ] You can hear that just by speaking! It is through such things that one must learn to feel the language. Of course, languages become more abstract as they evolve. One must then bring in the concrete, the tangible, from within. When placed side by side in an abstract way, what is the difference:

In old tales

we have heard many wonders

[ 79 ] and

In old fairy tales

We hear many wonderful stories

[ 80 ] and so on!

[ 81 ] Of course, once one becomes accustomed to listening, this can also be incorporated into the modern language, and much can be done within the language itself to ensure that it truly becomes something with a spirit of its own. But such exercises are precisely what is needed to bring listening in the spirit and speaking from the spirit into harmony with one another. And here I would like to cite that one formula once again:

[ 82 ] Fulfillment flows
Through hope
Flows through longing
Through will
Will blows
In the weaving
Blows in the trembling
Weaves, trembling
Weaving, binding
In finding
Finding, winding
Proclaiming.

[ 83 ] It is precisely by placing a single sound in different contexts that one arrives at a sense of the sound, at the metamorphosis of the sound, and at the contemplation of the word, at the perception of the word.

[ 84 ] When something like what I have described today—the process of formulating a plan through key phrases as our inner, spiritual preparation—unites with what we gain in this way from language, then we move toward speaking.

[ 85 ] There is one more thing needed when it comes to speaking, in addition to all the things I have already mentioned: responsibility! That is to say, one should feel that one has no right to air all one’s linguistic indiscretions in front of an audience. One must learn to feel that public speaking requires linguistic discipline—a stepping outside of oneself and a shaping of one’s language. Responsibility toward language! It is, of course, convenient to simply carry on speaking as one normally does, swallowing as much as one is accustomed to, squeezing, bending, breaking, pressing, and stretching words as one sees fit. But one must not stop at this squeezing, pressing, stretching, and the like; rather, one must “try to assist one’s speech even in these formal aspects.” When one aids one’s speech in this way, one is simply led to speak with a certain respect for the audience, to approach speaking with a certain sense of reverence, and to speak with respect for the audience. And that is absolutely necessary. This is possible if one works out the psychological aspect on the one hand, and the more physical aspect—which I discussed today in the second part of this discussion—on the other. Even when one has to give only occasional speeches, such things are certainly of great importance.

[ 86 ] Let’s say, for example, that one is to discuss the building, the Goetheanum. Then, since one obviously cannot make special preparations for every discussion, one should, in essence, prepare for the relevant speech at least twice a week, as I have explained. One should really only speak off the cuff if, so to speak, one practices preparation as a constant exercise.

[ 87 ] Then one will also discover how, I would say, the formal aspect is connected to the substantive aspect. And it is precisely this point that we will have to discuss again tomorrow: the connection between formal practice and spiritual practice.

[ 88 ] Unfortunately, the course is short; one can hardly get past the introduction. But I would consider it irresponsible not to have said precisely what I have said in the course of these lectures.