

Adelle Chabelski
Blessed by Mysterious Grace
RAVI RAVINDRA Adyar,
Theosophical Publishing House, 2023. vii + 400 pp., paper, $30.
On a Sunday afternoon, sitting at a restaurant overlooking the Ojai mountains, I laughed out loud. It was a hearty laugh, which drew attention to me. Aware of this, I tried to contain myself, but to no avail: I kept laughing and smiling. I was reading and relishing Ravi Ravindra’s latest inspiring book— surprisingly an autobiography, Blessed by Mysterious Grace—and came across a passage where he describes his early days at the university, when even then the other students called him “Who am I Ravindra.”
Fellow seekers who are familiar with Ravindra’s scholarly works on the traditional sacred literature of both Eastern and Western traditions (often building a bridge between the two) and his many papers on science, or who may have been fortunate enough to attend his courses on philosophy, comparative religious studies, or science, will have a chuckle too.
Seldom do we have a scholar in so many important academic fields who has written an autobiography revealing so much of his own personal journey, his doubts, fears, questions, and philosophical ideas. It is also inspiring because it points not only to higher truths but to different levels of subtle perception.
Ravindra’s readers will be grateful for this book, because in my humble opinion, I do not think anyone else could do justice to the complex man, his talent, and profound understanding of what it means to be human and honor the divine spark in our souls: “You need to work to relate the higher with the lower. That is the purpose of human existence.” There is no distance between his life and his work; they are perpetually intertwined, evolving in depth.
In one chapter, Ravindra refers to a saying in the Gospels: “From him to whom much is given, much is demanded” (Luke 12:48). He states that “there was no question” that much had been given to him, even though an objective observer would say that Ravindra worked hard, made many sacrifices, and took on responsibilities to earn what he did receive. The next line is profoundly important: “It cannot be only for my sake. My own self is too small to have any worthwhile purpose of its own. It must serve something higher.”
One does not have to read between the lines to see that serving something more important, higher, and bigger than ourselves is a theme that runs through Ravindra’s book—and life. That is why reading his book is elevating, putting us on a higher level of consciousness as we think and ponder life’s biggest philosophical questions: why am I here, and what is the purpose of my life?
At some juncture in Ravindra’s life, he found himself in turmoil: “I knew I needed a different kind of knowledge and education than I had obtained in the many schools and universities I had attended. I had become sadder and sadder the closer I was to finishing my Ph.D. The more I was certified as an educated man by the world, the clearer I was about my ignorance of myself.”
As we follow the author on the paths he explored, we see that the people he chose to seek out and study with were those who had a higher purpose in life, and he knew he could learn something from them. An encounter with J. Krishnamurti led to a touching friendship with the modern-day sage, which lasted from 1965 until Krishnamurti’s death in 1986. Ravindra evokes a gentle, kind man with a “doe-like frailty,” a characteristic not always observed by others who have written about him. He shares important conversations, humorous moments from some incidents with Krishnamurti that were unlike occurrences in an average person’s day-to-day life, as well as some of his personal frustrations because he was not able to meet Krishnamurti at the same level of clarity.
Ravindra writes of a mysterious meeting—which seemed almost accidental—in a remote village with a Korean Zen master, Chullong Sunim. After the master had spent days in meditation with Ravindra, he gave him a 1500-year-old Buddha statue from the Silla dynasty. When Ravindra tried to refuse such a valuable gift, Chullong Sunim told him he was repaying a debt to him from a past life, and proceeded to write to the customs people asking them to allow the antique to leave the country. Master Sunim said: “Maybe I took a lot from you before birth. You had done something for me in a previous life.”
Readers who have been attracted to G.I. Gurdjieff ’s ideas will appreciate Ravindra’s meticulous recording of his work with Jeanne de Salzmann, a disciple of Gurdjieff ’s, and his own challenges in looking objectively at himself.
The author’s association with the Theosophical Society has spanned more than four decades. He is regularly invited to teach at the School of Wisdom at Adyar and the Krotona School of Theosophy in Ojai for weeks at a time. He sums up why the TS makes a difference in the world: it’s “a unifying force which brings together all the great traditions of the world, deepening spiritual search and understanding.”
Without ever suggesting or advising, Ravindra points to the same higher truths and insights that sages have talked about throughout the ages. Nevertheless, he emphasizes, each of us must find our own way, take our own journey: no one else can do that for us: “It was clear to me that for me to approach any serious question a radical transformation of the whole of my being was needed. Nobody else, even the Buddha or Christ can answer my question; it has to be my own journey.”
This book will leave you much wiser about yourself, the human heart, and humanity. Maybe Ravindra followed a path that was “created” for him before he was born, but he has done everything he could to honor that divine spark in him.

WHO AM I?
David Lorimer
Global Ambassador & Programme Director
Editor, Paradigm Explorer
Chair, Galileo Commission
BLESSED BY MYSTERIOUS GRACE
Ravi Ravindra (Hon SMN)
Theosophical Publishing House, 2023, 400 pp., xx, p/b – ISBN 978-81-7059-638-7
Ravi Ravindra has written one of the great spiritual autobiographies of our time, vividly evoking significant conversations with his principal teachers – including Krishnamurti, Kobori Roshi, Mrs Welch and Jeanne de Salzmann – and the precious insights they conveyed to him. The book is spiced with instructive and entertaining anecdotes about the many interesting people such as Freeman Dyson, Eugene Wigner and Hilary Armstrong who have crossed his path. Above all, though, it is the story of a lifelong quest to answer the question: Who am I?
One of Ravi’s strongest memories dates back to when he was 12, and his father was reading the Bhagavad-Gita. He recited a verse (7.19): ‘At the end of many births, a wise person submits to me, realising that all there is, is Krishna; such a person is a great soul and very rare.’ His father added that he does not really know what this means. He is touched by the words, but they do not correspond to his own experience. He then expressed the hope that Ravi would meet someone ‘who can teach you how to experience what these words really mean.’ This has indeed been the leitmotif of Ravi’s quest throughout his life. He realised early on the limits of academic knowledge and ordinary thought, remarking that the more educated he became, the more ignorant he was about himself – and with degrees in engineering, physics, philosophy and religion.
A striking case in point occurred in an exchange with Prof T.R.V. Murti, who knew many sacred Indian texts by heart. Ravi wanted to know whether what they were reading in a text was true, to which Murti replied: ‘What has truth got to do with it? A philosopher is like a lawyer, and he must find the right logical remark to beat the competing lawyers.’ (p. 86) He was offended by Ravi’s observation that the search for truth made it worthwhile to study the text, and he was asked to leave. Later, Murti apologised, saying, remarkably, that he had never met an academic who was interested in truth.
Sages become aware that the universe is pervaded by conscious subtle energies, and they speak from direct perception or seeing, as Ravi says was the case with Krishnamurti. Spiritual practice is devoted to opening ourselves to these subtle energies, ultimately to Love, and refining our capacity for attention, so that we can respond rather than react to circumstances. Ravi himself states that nothing can be accomplished without attention that enables an exchange of energies between two levels. Both Krishnamurti and Jeanne de Salzmann refer to the descent of divine energy to the Self that needs and wishes to emerge.
De Salzmann elaborates that there is an energy which is trying to evolve, and that our task is to help the evolution of this energy so that it goes to a higher level at death. In a remarkable passage written shortly before his death, Krishnamurti states that an immense energy and intelligence has been using his body for 70 years, which is a form of the descent of Truth: ‘You cannot ascend to the Truth, but Truth can descend to you.’ (p. 240) Another way of putting it is to say that there is no way from here to there, but there is a way from there to here. K remarked that that this is what he had been teaching for many years. Part of the process is darshan, or sitting in the presence of an enlightened being. I myself experienced this with one the first disciples of Peter Deunov, Brother Boris Nikolov, whom I met when he was over 90. To sit in his presence was to be in a field of love and wisdom like the sweetness of the fully ripe fruit.
De Salzmann says that we need to overcome our fragmentation to receive the higher energy: ‘The purpose of man’s existence on the Earth is to allow the exchange of energy between the Earth and higher levels of existence.’ This process is not for oneself, but for the sake of the higher energy: ‘Without the relationship with higher energy, life has no meaning. The higher energy is the permanent Self’ to which we must connect via the generation of a fine substance which seems to me a form of focused attention/awareness. We are designed to receive from above and act below. In this respect, prayer, humility and purity of heart (Ravi learned this on Mount Athos) are essential, and we have to prepare ourselves to receive Christ in our hearts. In this respect, it is necessary ‘to understand effort as well as letting go.’ So when in the Mass people say Kyrie Eleison – Lord have mercy – they are in fact invoking the divine, which de Salzmann says is Love. Hence we can also say, ‘Love, have mercy.’ I find this extraordinary as a practice, as we are all aware of how far we fall short in our capacity to love. (p. 323) By working in this way, we pay for our existence through loving attention and can connect with the vertical dimension.
De Salzmann observed to Ravi that Krishnamurti had inner freedom but no science of being (or transformation) – he was rather about clear seeing. He wished for everyone to see from his level. The Gurdjieff Work also involves sometimes arduous physical tasks, and there is a wonderful moment when de Salzmann comes into a noisy workshop where Ravi is struggling with a large piece of wood on a table saw, and she says, ‘do you see it is the same here in the workshop as in the sitting?’ If de Salzmann comes across as force and love, Roshi Kobori is luminous insight, Chullong Sunim generosity of spirit, and Mrs Welch is a quiet, clear and supportive perception, while Dr Welch is much more fiery, humorous and direct. Mrs. Welch speaks of life as a precious gift and opportunity to free oneself from the socially constructed ego and connect with the Real. We ultimately need to realise that we are nothing by ourselves alone.
In the course of this remarkable autobiography, readers are invited into a corresponding journey within and beyond themselves, and are challenged to live a truly authentic life that makes a small contribution to the evolution of consciousness and life energy – to become a centred self without becoming self-centred, to cultivate receptive attention and allow the Great Self to flow through us. To fall short in this spiritual assignment is ultimately to waste the precious opportunity of a human life. Truly inspiring and essential reading.