Couperin is like floppity Mozart. Couperin is poised and a challenge to sing, and his music requires great technique. Couperin is like a flock of birds that wheel and turn in a big spiral in the sky, and stay in the air like that for an amazingly long time. (Mozart's birds land with more frequency, I think.)
I wonder if The Secret isn't like the one and only lucid dream that I was able to harness and transform. It started as a typical tedious nightmare of trying to accomplish a bunch of undoable tasks. I was somehow roped into waiting tables, and some people wanted water. Every time I turned on the tap, milk came out, and that's how I figured out that I was dreaming. But rather than try to get anything sorted out, I just changed the scenario to the way I wanted things. I made it so that I was outside in a warm, grassy field on a moonlit night with a bunch of my friends. My lack of success in all previous and subsequent attempts to control a lucid dream has been because I have tried to follow the sequential and textural rules of the dream. The trick is to remember that those rules are all in my mind.
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