Potlucks vs. Papers: Reflections on the EMU Attachment Conference

An increasing pile of evidence points to the biological imperative of attachment – not only in our early formative years, but throughout our entire lives. For some, this is revolutionary; for others, it’s old news.

Throughout the gospels, Jesus makes clear the necessity of attachment, both with God and amongst ourselves – analogizing that he is the vine and his followers are the branches, Jesus says, “Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me” (John 15:4, NRSV). Later, when he commissions his disciples, he doesn’t send them out alone – he sends them out in pairs.

Other religious traditions also make clear the value and importance of attachment, though perhaps with different words (and unique insights). Interbeing, for example, is the Buddhist teaching that nothing can be by itself alone, that everything in the cosmos must “inter-be” with everything else. Thich Nhat Hanh writes in Living Buddha, Living Christ, “When we see the nature of interbeing, barriers between ourselves and others are dissolved, and peace, love, and understanding are possible. Whenever there is understanding, compassion is born.”

Though it isn’t technically considered a “religion,” Alcoholics Anonymous also exemplifies this value of attachment as a core principle, embodied through the practice of sponsorship – something that many describe as the backbone of AA.

And yet here we are, over a decade deep into the 21st century, and we’ve got neuroscientists and Ph.D.’s talking about connectedness in venue’s like EMU’s recent Attachment Conference as if it’s some sort of groundbreaking idea. There is certainly something positive to be said for affixing solid, scientific evidence to what many would call intuitive knowledge. In the Western world of skepticism, if you want to give something legitimacy, you have to back it up with research and quantifiable evidence (check out Brian Gumm’s recent post on Game Theory for more on the history and impact of this). But for those who see these “discoveries” as nothing more than new words affixed to old concepts, the trending enthusiasm may feel like something of an insult.

Western peacebuilders often speak of mutuality in their work – that they seek to both teach and learn from the international communities that they’re engaging with. Unfortunately, there are too few examples of truly reciprocal relationships. Too often the question is, “How do I make this tool/strategy/theory that I’ve already established work in a different context?” We aren’t so foolish as to suggest that peacebuilding is a one-size-fits-all sort of endeavor, but we do tend to stubbornly insist on adapting preconceived methodologies.

A famous Buddhist story tells of a young student visiting a famous Zen Master. When tea is served, the teacher pours his guest’s cup full and then continues to pour. The student watches in shock as tea spills over the rim and all over the table. The master continues though, seemingly oblivious to the expanding puddle until finally the student can stand it no more – “Stop! The cup is overflowing! No more will go in!”

“Like this cup,” the teacher explains, “you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”

John Paul Lederach told a group of CJP folks after the conference that having an attitude of humility means “preparing yourself every day to be surprised by something new.” We as peacebuilders need to empty our cups and prepare ourselves for surprise. Some of those surprises might be revealed to us through charts and diagrams and books and lectures, but I’d venture to say that most of them are already available to us in the untapped wealth of relationships that surround us every day; after all, our best opportunity for learning about connection is through actual connectedness, right?

Now we just need to convince the Academy that potlucks and tea parties are valid replacements for papers and tests…