A mystic told me to face East instead of North when I meditated. Resultantly MECCA, MECCA, MECCA, resounded in my minds ear continuously. So I went there.
It was an early spring late afternoon day in Reseda, one of many small towns which, over time had grown to the point of mutually commingling, it’s inhabitants with the expanding populous of the neighboring municipalities. Thus creating a conglomeration of such. Which was commonly known as the San Fernando Valley. If you viewed it from a plane at night, it would look like a spider web sprinkled with stardust spread down into a soup bowl. Of course the broth would be the ever present ”smog “a mixture of smoke and fog that perpetually plagued it’s atmosphere, and poisoned it’s inhabitants. Some medical groups claimed living in the valley, was the equivalent of smoking two packs...