Free Return to the One by Brian Hines

pleasure. Observe a cat playing with catnip or a dog savoring a bone. If this is all we aspire to we are missing the point of being human.
    All souls—celestial, human, animal, insect, plant—desire the One. For the One, or God, is the goal to which all animate beings aspire. This yearning is built into the structure of creation, since the Good is desired because it is the ultimate reality, whereas other things become good for us because we desire them. Hence, there is one objective highest Good and a multitude of subjective lesser goods. As humans we are capable of recognizing the difference between what is merely pleasurable and what is truly good for us. Other living beings lack this ability.
    Because humans have the ability to play such an exalted role in the cosmos, we cannot be truly happy if we merely act out the parts of beings with a much lesser capacity. As a military recruiting slogan put it: “Be all that you can be.” A good life is a full life, which means expressing all of our innate capabilities. Unfulfilled potential, like a half-empty balloon, does not allow us to soar to the heights of happiness.
Could one say that the good for a thing was anything else than the full natural activity of its life? [I-7-1]
     
    It is understandable if we fail to realize that the One is our good, since our “full natural activity” seems to be firmly rooted in the familiar pursuits of everyday life: working, raising children, learning new things, enjoying nature, helping others, praying, exercising, relaxing, making love, eating and drinking. Where in all of this activity is there any sign of an urge toward a divine reality that transcends sensation, emotion, and reason?
    “Everywhere,” we can imagine Plotinus answering. “You are not looking deeply enough. Ignore outward appearances. What common desire lies behind the actions of all living beings and even inanimate objects? To be one.”
    Consider a large rock. Lodged firmly in the middle of my garden plot, it tries with all its might to remain a rock, notwithstanding the sledgehammer blows with which I attempt to convert it to an unrock. Even if I am able to break the rock into pieces, each piece retains its rockness. Similarly, everything alive strives more actively to maintain its oneness. An ant flees the beetle that wants to destroy its antness. A chicken races to avoid the fox bent on annihilating its chickenness. A soldier fights against the enemy set on obliterating his humanness.
For each thing wishes not just for being, but for being together with the good…. For all individual things do not strive to get away from each other, but towards each other and towards themselves; and all souls would like to come to unity, following their own nature. [VI-2-11]
     
    Even suicide, it may be argued, reflects a desire for unity, a hoped-for final rest that seems preferable to a shattered life. And self-sacrifice aims to preserve the unity of the larger family, species, culture, nation, or ideal that is more important to the altruistic individual than his or her personal needs. So Plotinus seems to have it right that people seek both to be one with themselves, by preserving their existence and sense of selfhood, and to be one with others, through all the things they do to feel close to their fellow humans.
    Possessions, of course, are another reflection of this innate urge for the One. We are not satisfied with having just the idea of a big-screen television, slinky black dress, umpteen megahertz computer, or turbo-charged sports car. We want to make that idea a reality, to bring the object of our desire right into our living rooms, closets, offices, or garages, and then to make it as much a part of our lives as possible. Until, at least, an even better thing comes along.
    Our aspiration is fine, to unite as closely as possible with what is good for us. The problem lies with our understanding of what the ultimate good is, and how it can be possessed.
What is really