The Biological Impact of Being Met: How we Learn What “Safe” Feels Like
As a meditation teacher, I’m always curious about what brings people to practice. Sometimes it’s a response to difficulty, a search for clarity, or simply curiosity. Recently, I spent some time reflecting on my own reasons. I realised that what led me to meditation years ago is not quite what keeps me coming back now.
One reason emerged that I found particularly striking: to make my body a safe place for my baby.
That realisation surprised me, although perhaps it shouldn’t have. I’ve spent much of my academic life straddling two seemingly separate fields: infant mental health and contemplative science. For years, I’ve tried to find the language to describe the link between them. It wasn’t always obvious. In academia, we’re encouraged to “niche down” and stay in our lane. I must have missed that memo: my academic path has taken more turns than Lombard Street. But through all the detours, one question has remained at the centre of my work:
How do we cultivate a felt sense of safety - in ourselves, and in those we care for?
This question has been personal. It shaped me as a child growing up in a fractured family, as a teenager who befriended all the kids others wouldn’t, and as a young adult navigating the profound vulnerability of chronic illness. It’s been central to my work as a psychologist supporting people with complex mental health challenges, and as a team leader trying to understand how to cultivate psychological safety in the hyper-competitive world that is academia. And now, it feels more immediate than ever, as I learn to co-regulate with my own four-month-old daughter.
This article is about that process: how the sense of safety we come to carry in our bodies is first shaped through connection with others. And why that matters for the rest of our lives
What is co-regulation?
Co-regulation is the process by which a caregiver helps a child manage their physiological and emotional states. It’s the parent who rocks their baby during a storm. The teacher who stays steady during a tantrum. The adult who notices a child's fear and offers reassurance.
In early childhood, co-regulation is essential. The parasympathetic nervous system, responsible for helping us rest and recover, is still developing. A major player in this system is the vagus nerve, which connects the brain to the heart, lungs, and digestive system. Its job is to help the body shift out of stress and into calm. This nerve begins forming during fetal development and continues maturing through infancy and childhood (Porges & Furman, 2011).
Young children don’t yet have the internal wiring to regulate big emotions or recover from stress on their own. Their nervous systems learn by being met and held by other nervous systems - usually that of a responsive caregiver. Predictable routines, emotional warmth, and sensitive attunement form relational anchors to help children's nervous systems learn how to return to calm after arousal.
The Biological Impact of Being Met
When a caregiver consistently responds to a child’s needs, the child’s nervous system begins to internalise that sense of safety. Over time, these moments shape the development of vagal tone, which can be measured through respiratory sinus arrhythmia (RSA). Higher RSA is associated with greater emotional flexibility and healthier physiological regulation (Beauchaine, 2001).
But when care is inconsistent, chaotic, or absent, the child’s body may adapt by staying on alert. Studies show that early adversity - such as neglect, poverty, or household instability - can disrupt vagal development. These disruptions are linked to lower RSA, less adaptive stress responses, and later difficulties with attention, behaviour, and emotional wellbeing (Obradović et al., 2010; El-Sheikh & Erath, 2011).
What’s more, the vagus nerve doesn’t operate in isolation. Its development is closely linked with brain regions like the prefrontal cortex, which support executive function and emotion regulation. These circuits are also shaped by early life experiences and remain sensitive to context throughout development (Tottenham, 2020).
Research shows that children exposed to chronic stress may develop nervous systems that remain in a heightened state of arousal, making it harder to concentrate, connect, and cope. It’s not just that children feel stress more deeply in these environments. It’s that they have fewer relational anchors to help them come back from it. These physiological patterns can persist into adolescence and adulthood, increasing the risk for anxiety, depression, and cardiovascular problems (McLaughlin et al., 2015; Thayer & Sternberg, 2006).
How do our bodies learn what safety feels like?
In a supportive environment, a child begins to develop self-regulation not through willpower or instruction, but through repeated experiences of co-regulation. A toddler learns to soothe not because they’ve been told how, but because they’ve been soothed - gently, reliably, often. This often depends on having a caregiver who can regulate their own nervous system, particularly in times of stress.
The patterns established in early caregiving relationships can echo far into adulthood. People who grew up with strong co-regulation often find it easier to access calm, connection, and perspective under stress. Those who didn’t may find their bodies bracing more quickly, or their emotions harder to manage, even when they cognitively know they are safe. Remember - there’s a big difference between what we intellectually understand and what our bodies have learned through experience.
Rewiring the Nervous System for Safety
The good news is that our nervous systems can change. While early co-regulation lays the foundation, experiences of attunement and care in adulthood - through therapy, close relationships, or contemplative practice - can help rewire those early patterns.
This brings us back to my reason for meditating. In the beginning, it was very hard for me to access a sense of safety through meditation. In fact, it was hard for me to feel anything in my body. I used meditation more for attentional regulation - to help me focus and stop getting derailed by difficult thoughts. Over time - through a lot of practice and support - I was able to access a felt sense of safety in my own body.
Research supports the assertion that by training the mind to cultivate kindness, we can influence the body’s capacity for calm and connection. Practices such as loving-kindness meditation - where one silently sends goodwill to oneself and others - have been shown to increase RSA and activate parasympathetic pathways (Kok et al., 2013; Stellar et al., 2015). These practices help simulate the conditions of co-regulation, allowing us to meet our inner experiences with the same kind of steady presence we once needed from others.
Research suggests that people who practice compassion meditation regularly may show improved emotion regulation, lower inflammation, and better stress recovery (Pace et al., 2009; Weng et al., 2013). In other words, the same ingredients that support healthy vagal development in childhood - safety, connection, care can be intentionally cultivated later in life. Through compassion, the nervous system continues to learn how to soften.
Key Takeaways & Practice Notes
Our nervous systems are shaped by experience, but they are not fixed by it. While we are wired in early relationships, we can be rewired by the way we relate to others - and to ourselves - as adults.
If you’re curious to explore a simple loving-kindness meditation that supports this inner calm, you can try one here: Listen to the Kindful Loving-Kindness Meditation.
References
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Weng, H. Y., et al. (2013). Compassion training alters altruism and neural responses to suffering. Psychological Science, 24(7), 1171–1180.