The outer phe­no­mena that ac­com­pany change in the en­vi­ron­ment – dis­played by the struc­tural changes of the mu­si­cal sound-space – are, due to his natu­ral dis­tance to the en­vi­ron­ment, less in­ti­mate to the in­di­vid­ual and there­fore less im­por­tant than the varia­tions of his own char­ac­ter, than the in­ner play of his quali­ties which are dis­played in the ap­plied motif-tech­nique – in the melody.

To the lis­tener there­fore, the tone, or the se­ries of tones per­formed is far less im­por­tant than their un­derly­ing, deeper mu­si­cal mean­ing.

This ex­peri­ence shows that, while lis­ten­ing to the mu­sic out­side, man is, in fact, quite dis­cretely dedi­cated to his in­ner ful­fil­ment, and that he aims at in­creas­ing his very own in­ner joy.

Here clas­si­cal mu­sic dem­on­strates that man, in his as­pi­ra­tion for the ful­fil­ment of his in­di­vid­ual life, is not so much focussed on outer suc­cess as it may appear from the rou­tine of day-to-day life. The ma­te­rial strive, rep­re­sented in mu­sic by the outer struc­tur­ing of the sound-space, is only the outer, nec­es­sary effort through which man wants to se­cure the ful­fil­ment of his in­ner realm of de­sires, which is rep­re­sented in mu­sic by the in­ner enliv­en­ment of the mu­si­cal sound-space: by the ap­plied motif-tech­nique, the ap­plied se­quence-tech­nique, and the ap­plied har­mony-tech­nique.

Be­cause the mecha­nism of in­ner mas­tery over the realm of hu­man hap­pi­ness had van­ished from day-to-day life in the past, man be­came used to pre­tend that ex­ter­nal ful­fil­ment of de­sires and a ma­te­ri­alis­tic life style were the most im­por­tant mat­ters for the in­di­vid­ual. Thus, cor­re­spond­ingly, the outer analy­sis of the com­po­si­tion, the outer in­stru­men­tal struc­tur­ing of the tone, and the outer cere­mony of mu­si­cal per­form­ance gained ever greater pub­lic im­por­tance, cul­mi­nat­ing in high ma­te­rial re­wards for the su­per­fi­cial “in­ter­pret­ers.”

Yet eve­ry­one of us knows deep within his own think­ing and feel­ing that the re­ali­za­tion of one’s very own in­ner world of de­sires is most dear to us, and we there­fore are far from be­ing amused when we dis­cover that some­one wants to re­strict us in our ho­liest, in­ner­most realm of life.

Only be­cause outer ma­te­rial sub­sis­tence is a natu­ral pre­req­ui­site for the pos­si­bil­ity of in­ner ful­fil­ment of de­sires, cer­tain ma­te­ri­alis­tic ac­tivi­ties are nec­es­sary to se­cure the outer ex­is­tence.

How­ever, nei­ther the com­poser nor the true mu­si­cian have ever de­voted them­selves to this ad­mit­tedly nec­es­sary outer field of life; not that they con­sid­ered this outer ac­tiv­ity for sub­sis­tence in­sig­nifi­cant, but they real­ized that their task was to strengthen the field of the in­ner for­ma­tion of life – the world of in­ner ful­fil­ment of de­sires – as a natu­ral bal­ance to the out­ward di­rec­tion of the ma­te­rial way of life.

Through their mu­sic the great mu­si­cal crea­tors wanted, and still want, to keep alive, in man’s eve­ry­day aware­ness, the knowl­edge that the true pur­pose of our in­di­vid­ual and so­cial life can only be real­ized through the com­plete ful­fil­ment of our in­ner­most, per­sonal as­pi­ra­tions.

In the light of this in­spi­ra­tion any ex­ter­nal, ma­te­ri­alis­tic ac­tiv­ity is but a triv­ial ne­ces­sity for se­cur­ing our in­ner ful­fil­ment of de­sires; be­cause to enjoy in­wardly one must also be intact out­wardly.