A soul daring to ascend
Plotinus, τόλμα, and the road to freedom
I. The daring of Soul
In Plotinus, there is a descent of Being out of the One. In the One, everything is entirely sufficient, perfect in and by itself. And out of the One there first emerges Intellect or Nous (identified with Being), and out of this Intellect there emerges Soul. And out of Soul there emerges the lowest emanation: matter, identified as non-being and evil. The reader of Plotinus immediately becomes haunted by this one question: if the One is perfect in and by itself, why is there anything else? If the One is in need of nothing, and wants nothing but itself, then why would the emanated universe come about? Why would Being emerge out of the One, and why would we emerge out of Being? Why would anything depart from this most perfect of realities? This is so because of an initial act of τόλμα (tólma) or daring. Intellect, “having dared to depart somehow from the One”, came to stand apart. (Plotinus, Enneads. VI.9.5.)
This act that eternally guarantees this ‘standing away’ of Intellect from the One, this act is tólma (τόλμα): a daring, an audacity, a primal desire to depart even when one knows one shouldn’t. As Intellect dared to depart from the One, Soul too departs from Intellect by an act of τόλμα, and individual souls depart from Soul by an act of τόλμα, thus plunging into matter, and eventually forgetting their divine lineage. This is the theme of the descent of souls, encapsulated in the concept of τόλμα.
I have written on τόλμα on two prior occasions, a general introduction to the concept (Philosophy and Audacity), and a more specific text (Philosophical Patricide). In this second text I looked at the various senses given to τόλμα by Plato, Hesiod, and Plotinus, and explained that as much as τόλμα stands for the root of all evil and descent, there is also a clearly positive sense to it. Along this path —the positive sense of τόλμα—, I want to take you further today by way of Plotinus, specifically as it relates to the question of freedom.
Links to previous texts:
II. Fortune favours the bold
In ‘La pensée de Plotin’, Naguib Baladi makes the claim that the Greek τόλμα (tólma) is not only to be applied to the descent of the secondary Hypostases (Intellect and Soul) out of the first Hypostasis (The One), but also to the soul’s ascent back to the One. For, residing in a culture addicted to matter, in which no one knows of divine realities, and in which those who do speak of them are ridiculed, it often takes great daring to do seek these realities. Tólma is this desire for separate existence, to leave the familiar, and to go forth to what is unfamiliar. In this way, the Divine has exited from itself, and we have forgotten about the Divine. But once down here, having come to be so familiar with matter, having all our ideas based on matter, what really is ‘familiar’ and ‘unfamiliar’? It is no longer Soul or Intellect, let alone the One, that is familiar. And it is not the journey of ascent that is encouraged, but the journey of descent. There is no daring in doing what everyone else is doing.
We are like a substance addict. And living in a house full of other addicts, we start to think that maybe there is another way, a better way. We start to think that maybe there is a different life than this life of material addiction. And it takes great daring to pursue this way, when one’s entire environment is intent on keeping one stuck in the addiction. A great daring, so strong that it would allow something entirely new to emerge, and remain distinct. As Intellect originally dared to stand part from the One. In the same manner, our environment entirely determines us to be dragged deeper. And only by an inhuman act of τόλμα, can we revert back. That is, by no longer being determined by our environment, but by becoming the one who determines himself. This is what τόλμα signifies too, an almost impossible boldness. In the One, being entirely sufficient onto itself and desiring nothing but itself, it is entirely illogical for something to depart from it. And the circumstances couldn’t be less suitable for something new to emerge. Nothing in the One wants Intellect to emerge, for the One only wants itself. In such a situation, it takes an ungraspable amount of daring/τόλμα on the part of Intellect, to attempt to depart. Pure will overpowering the determinism of one’s environment, this is τόλμα. We see this clearly in Homer, where τόλμα is applied to the heroic acts of the Iliad and Odyssey. In the battle of the Iliad, like in any battle, there are situations where going into the offensive is the most illogical and irresponsible thing to do. One might be completely outnumbered and overpowered, and the chances of making it out alive are zero to none. All the circumstances would make one decide to go home. Yet, the most heroic of men are those who do dare to go forth anyways. The greatest daring, the greatest risk, but also the chance of the greatest honour. A passage from the Iliad:
“My friends, is there then no man who would trust his own venturous spirit to go among the great-souled Trojans, if so be he might slay some straggler of the foemen, or haply hear some rumour among the Trojans, and what counsel they devise among themselves, whether to abide where they be by the ships afar, or to withdraw again to the city, seeing they have worsted the Achaeans? All this might he learn, and come back to us unscathed: great would his fame be under heaven among all men, and a goodly gift shall be his." (Homer, Iliad, X 205)
III. τόλμα, descent and ascent
The τόλμα of souls that makes them descend into matter is explained by Plotinus thusly:
“The starting point for their evil is, then, audacity, generation, primary difference, and their wiling that they belong to themselves. Since they appeared actually to take pleasure in their autonomy, and to have made much use of their self-motion, running in the opposite direction and getting as far away from home as possible, they came not to know even that they themselves were from the intelligible world.” (Plotinus, V.1.1.)
Yet likewise, this desire to belong to themselves, this autonomy, and this usage of their self-motion, is precisely what allows souls to revert back to the One. For having come to be entirely determined by one’s material surroundings, having become an addict, and a slave, it will only be in oneself that one can revert the process. Because of prior decisions, one is now in a situation in which one’s environment is extremely unlikely to change oneself. Remember the example of the addict living in a house full of addicts. He once made the choice to go live there and to pursue the substance of choice, but having done so, he now finds himself in an environment that destroys this possibility of choice. He no longer chooses the environment, it is now the environment that is choosing for him. His environment only nudges him further into the addiction, and even if he wants to quit, his environment will do everything in its power to make it impossible for him. Everything in his surroundings is bent on keeping him the same, and the situation couldn’t be less suitable for change. In such a situation, change can never come from his surroundings, but only from himself.
It will only be in a courage vis-à-vis his environment, and vis-à-vis his own passions, that he can revert. This example applies to the general situation of the soul once it is entangled in matter. It will only be in a radical daring to depart from matter and the passions that keep it entangled in it, that the soul can start its journey home. And this is a painful process, as Plato’s cave allegory attempts to make clear.
“And if someone compelled him to look at the light itself, wouldn’t his eyes hurt, and wouldn’t he turn around and flee towards the things he’s able to see, believing that they’re really clearer than the ones he’s being shown?” (Plato, Republic, 515e)
Tólma encapsulates this daring to depart from one’s environment, affirm oneself, and venture forth alone. But the question is in what one is departing from. From the One, in which case τόλμα becomes the root of all evil. Or from matter, in which case τόλμα is the pre-requisite for ascent to the Good.
IV. Contemplation, sorcery, slavery
Descending out of the One, the soul comes to look at matter, and mesmerised by its appearance, it becomes enslaved to matter. How does this happen? Plotinus answers:
“For everything that pays attention to something else is liable to be bewitched by that something; the thing that it pays attention to bewitches it and exerts a pull on it. Only that which is focused on itself is immune to sorcery.” (Plotinus, V1.4.43.)
Plotinus speaks of ‘sorcery’ and ‘bewitchment’, but this does not mean that there is someone consciously enacting sorcery. Plotinus uses these terms merely to designate how everything in nature influences everything else, and in this sense, nature is one big game of sorcery. As he writes:
“Indeed, many things are attracted and bewitched without any other person contriving it; and, in fact, the real magic is the ‘Love’ in the universe and the ‘Strife’ that accompanies it. And this is the primary ‘magician’ and ‘spell-binder.’” (Plotinus, IV.4.40)
It is when the rays of the sun signal a plant to grow towards it, that this sun is in a sense ‘bewitching’ the plant. This is the sorcery of nature that Plotinus is speaking about. But for this sorcery to take place, the plant must first be receptive, it must be open towards the light, it must possess this primal willingness towards what is other than itself. In the same manner, we are influenced by our environment because we are open towards all sorts of influences from our environment. The natural environment, opinions floating around in society, our own senses, etc. And when we pay attention to something other than ourselves, we always run the risk of letting this thing exert more of a pull on us than ourselves. We run the risk of becoming mere plants, purely receptive beings, entirely passive vis-à-vis our environmental influences. In this sense, we become less like a soul, and more like matter.
Where we put our attention is not innocent, for it is the first step in all acting. Plotinus tells us to be deliberate in where we put our attention, and to be vigilant at all times. For when we give our attention over to some object, and allow it to exert a pull on us, it will be easier for it to exert a pull next time. When the plant has listened to the rays of the sun many times before, it will grow in the direction of the sun, making its being even more focused on the sun, being dragged further and further from where it was before.
Of course, the sun is a good, but when it comes to the soul’s situation of entanglement in matter, having forgotten about its origin in the Divine, the basic model is one of addiction. At first, mesmerized by some object or behaviour, you freely give your attention over to it. But the more you do this, the more it feels like the object is controlling you. You become less free. You becomes less like a soul, and more like matter. Less like a person able to exert influence, and more like a mere object, a passive victim to the causes outside of it.
In this natural world, everything exerts an influence on everything else, and thus, everything is linked in an infinite chain of causes and effects. The question is if we, as embodied souls, act more like causes, or more like effects. Are we merely the effects of whatever goes on in the world outside of us, mere victims to our environments, slave-like addicts to material causes? Or do we act like causes? Do we have the will to choose where we put our attention, to refrain from the pull of the objects, and to choose our own path? This is the choice; freedom and self-motion, or slavery and being moved by what is other.
It is in this scheme that Plotinus says that:
“It is only contemplation that is left to be immune to sorcery, because no one whose attention is focused on himself is subject to sorcery.” (Plotinus IV. 4.44.)
This is clear from what we have said. If one puts one’s attention on something else, there is always a pull from this thing. The degree to which we are free vis-à-vis what pulls our attention, is the degree to which we are able to freely choose whether we allow ourselves to be pulled or not. But as all objects of attention exert a pull by the mere fact that they grasp our attention, it follows that we are always under the influence of ‘sorcery’, so long as we have our attention focused on anything but ourselves. It is only in focusing entirely on ourselves, that nothing can deceive us, and that nothing can pull us away from ourselves. This is what absolute freedom means for Plotinus. To be at one with oneself, having not the slightest part of one’s attention go anywhere else. This mode of being is what Plotinus calls contemplation, the road to be set free from matter, and the path towards Divine union. But this need not mean that freedom is only accessible in the most pure moments of contemplation. One can also act in the world while keeping one’s freedom, all be it that this freedom is less absolute than the freedom of Divine union.
Having one’s attention focused on oneself in the domain of action, one can be strong enough to resist the pull of whatever objects or desires might be begging for one’s attention, and one can have one’s attention focused on oneself and one’s principles, even in action.
This focus on oneself and nothing else —contemplation—, leads to God when taken by itself, and leads to a just life when applied to action. The freedom of life, and a freedom in life. Courage in war, or determination in prayer, contemplation is the road to both. To not lose sight of one’s self, in a world that seeks only to distract you. Like Odysseus must never lose sight of his task to get home, even as the path is riddled with those seeking to lead him astray.
V. A cause unto itself
It is here that something interesting grasps our attention. In our first characterization of τόλμα in Plotinus, we saw that it stands for the desire to depart from one’s Divine lineage, spurred on by a desire for self-motion. Like a child who renounces its father because it wants to go its own path. For no good reason, but the primal desire to affirm itself as an autonomous being. This desire for self-motion, having become “attracted to a state of its own, wanting to be other than it was, and in a way poking its head out”, is here seen as entirely negative.(Plotinus, V.1.1.) This τόλμα, this desire for separate existence, born out the soul’s excessive focus on itself, is the root of all evil. Yet, in our discussion of the ‘sorcery’ and the road to freedom, this focus on oneself is precisely what leads to the Divine. This is the seemingly paradoxical situation that led Naguib Baladi to claim that there is also a positive sense to τόλμα in Plotinus. And there surely is, in two senses.
Entangled here below, the individual soul has to show great τόλμα to affirm itself vis-à-vis its environment, and go its own road. And going its own road, reaching into its essence, it will come to know the One.(Plotinus, VI.9.11) But also in a more broad sense, the τόλμα that made the soul depart from the one, will eventually lead the soul to revert back to the One, as “the experience of evil brings the dearer perception of Good.” (Plotinus, IV.8.7.) On this second aspect I have spoken before in my text ‘τόλμα, Philosophical Patricide’, and I will write about this further in the future. Plotinus seems to say at some crucial passages that at the lowest point of emanation —in matter or non-being—, there is a yearning or desire for Being, a τόλμα, that leads it back to its origin. In particular, see treatise III.6.14. On this, soon.
For now I merely wanted to stress the role of τόλμα as it applies to the individual’s task of ascent. This boundless daring that is needed to pursue “the release from everything here, a way of life that takes no pleasure in things here, the refuge of a solitary in the solitary.” (Plotinus, VI.9.11.) This daring applies to the philosophical ascent towards the One, but more broadly, it applies to all who seek freedom vis-à-vis their environment. In this infinite chain of causes and effects that is the whole of nature, you are determined, evidently. But in this infinite chain, you are both a cause and an effect, evidently. And it is a question of how you come to see yourself, and how you seek to be. A life with little soul, like a rock or a plant, entirely determined by its circumstances, a pure product of its environment. Or as a soul, driven by the τόλμα to affirm one’s place as a cause in itself. Plotinus says:
“Why, after all, does one direct one’s attention to something? It is through being drawn to it, not by magic crafts, but by the crafts of nature, which generates its own mode of deceit.” (Plotinus, IV.4.43)
This deceit applies to the sorcery of nature we spoke about earlier, everything influences everything else, and in this way everything ‘bewitches’ everything else. As the plant is bewitched by the sun. Cause and effect. But perhaps more interestingly, we could also read this slightly differently. A simple observation of nature leads us to observe that everything is indeed influenced by something else, that cause and effect is all there is. And consequently, it leads us to posit that everything is determined, and that there is no freedom in us. And evidently, this is true when one observes in this manner. And this precisely is the deceit, that this true observation of the reality of cause and effect, deceives us into believing that because of this fact, there is no possibility of self-motion in us. We are a link in this chain of causes and effects, a cause to some things, and ourselves an effect of other things. And the observation of this fact, deceives us into thinking that we are only an effect, and no cause at all. τόλμα, this desire to affirm oneself against one’s lineage, to go recklessly into the face of nature, to no longer see oneself as a child of the One, entirely dependent on its father, but as an autonomous being in itself. But also, this desire to reclaim one’s position as a soul, and rail against the one-sided determinism of material nature. In putting our attention towards the world, we become conscious of this sorcery of nature, this reality of cause and effect, this determinist chain. And here, conscious of the reality of this chain and of our place in it, the question is what we do with this fact. Do we use this fact to reclaim our rightful place as both an effect and a cause, thereby breaking free from this chain as far as possible, reclaiming our autonomy? Or do we make use of this fact to enslave ourselves even further? Do we look at all our subconscious influences, to consciously create our future? Or do we look at all our subconscious influences, to excuse ourselves from the task of creation? That is, do we use philosophy to ascend, or do we use ‘philosophy’ to descend even further?
SOURCES:
Plotinus, The Enneads. Edited by Lloyd P. Gerson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018.
Plato. Complete Works. Edited by John M. Cooper. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1997.
Homer, Iliad. Perseus Digital Library.
Naguib Baladi, La Pensée de Plotin. Paris: PUF, 1970.