I think that it doesn't need to be said. It's obvious that is the intended plan. Start at the beginning and proceed one lesson at a time, in sequence, until you reach the end.
Still, I want to jump back to lesson one to make a point.
When I look around this room I'm in, at the various objects, cats and people in it, and say, "This does not mean anything," my only responses is:
That's not true.
Everything I look at means something to me.
I have a name, however generic a word it may be, for everything I see. If I don't have a name for something, I make one up. It's a doodad or a thingamabob or a gadget. And, everything I look at has a specific quality of ownership attached to it.
"That's my thingamabob, and you better not break it. Give it back."
I look at my left hand, see the 3 inch scar, and remember the spring day in 1969 when I was standing on a ladder against a tree doing some pruning, and I almost sawed my thumb off.
That means something to me.
My world is chock full of meaning. Psychologists have long recognized that people become anxious and disturbed when they can't easily fit a new experience into their preexisting definition of reality. People demand to know how the world works, what is important, what is not, and what it all means.
I'm thinking that if everyone is totally honest, nobody believes lesson one.
But, that's OK. The instructions clearly state that we are not asked to believe the lessons.
Just do the exercise mindfully, and see what comes up for you as you look around your world.