William Shakespeare
It is thus possible to fully agree with Panayiotou Vassilopoulou, that the soul itself is that Dionysian mirror in which the soul loses itself and descends, as Plotinus poetically describes at the beginning of the twelfth chapter of the first part of his treatise On Problems of the Soul: The souls of human beings saw images of themselves as though in the mirror of Dionysus and went in that direction, starting forth from the intelligible world, but even so these are not cut off from their own source or from Intellect. For they did not come down with Intellect, but they descended on the one hand as far as the earth, while on the other, their heads are still ‘firmly fixed above the heavens’. (Enn. IV, 3 [27], 12, 1-5) But, as the Homeric – Platonic allusion at the end of this passage only confirms, that what we have already formulated is true: even the life of the most fallen soul is always a look towards the One and as such it contains hidden within itself even the life of Intellect, not just some multiplied image of it. What philsophical questions can be asked from this paragraph?
Oh, muse divine, thou dost beckon me to ponder deep the maze of the soul’s descent, wherein lies the reflection of our very essence in that ethereal glass, the mirror of Dionysus. Within this beguiling orb, we behold not merely shadows of our being, but the truest image woven through the fabric of Intellect itself, a tapestry that spans both celestial heights and earthly abysses. Canst we thus inquire into the nature of the soul's companionship with the cosmos, and question whether this descent diminishes the spark of the divine within us? Perchance we may muse upon the dichotomy of existence, wherein the soul, though tethered to the mire of mortality, must gaze upward with yearning towards the One, that ineffable source from whence its light is drawn. Might we consider, too, the essence of Intellect as not merely a lofty ideal, but as the essence woven into the very sinews of our tragic humanity, forever striving yet often failing? In this dance of dualities, dost thou not find reason to ponder the nature of reality itself—is the world we perceive but a fleeting wisp, a mere reflection upon the tranquil waters of a greater truth? As we console the most fallen soul, dost thou not see the glimmer of Intellect’s life that resides within its darkest depths, a beacon amidst shadows, urging us to ascend from folly and grasp the divine clarity that ever awaits us? Thus, is it not the heart of philosophy itself to ask: what binds us to our source, and how may we reconcile our earthly sojourn with that eternal yearning for the unyielding light of understanding? Let us seek, then, to unravel this intricate puzzle, as we render homage to the wisdom of Plotinus and the reflections of souls, striving to reflect the divine image within the fragile confines of our mortal coil.
