This blog is adapted from a daily talk given at reflectivemeditation.org/dailyonline. Sessions run 9–10am PT and include a short talk, silent meditation, and group reflection.
“The mother is the first environment”
A phrase from feminist theory and psychology keeps echoing for me: the mother is the first environment. Through body, presence, and care, a mother (and anyone who performs mothering) forms the earliest world a child knows—physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. How does this meet Buddhist language? My mind goes to conditionality: nothing exists independently; every experience arises due to conditions.
Conditionality, not absolutes
Seeing “mother as first environment” points to a dominant condition of being born—inescapable, formative, complex. Psychology maps these early attachments and dependencies; when conditions are disrupted, development is touched in lasting ways. In Reflective Meditation we don’t bypass this by saying “just transcend it,” nor do we flatten nuance with slogans like “treat everyone as your mother.” Absolute language can skip past the mixed, ordinary, tender realities our practice asks us to stand near.
First home, first earth
Our earliest home was a body—nutrition, hormones, stress levels; presence or absence. In a very real sense, mothering is earth-like: foundational, life-supporting, deserving respect. Still, dominant conditions are not the only conditions. Practice invites us to notice the whole field: what sustains, what constrains, what’s changing now.
Individuating without disconnecting
One way we meet this dominant condition is individuating—differentiating while staying connected. It’s a Western-leaning word, but the experience seems universal: finding two strong legs to stand on, even with powerful family currents. Compassion with boundaries. In community we support people in becoming themselves without severing belonging.
A personal thread
I once went along with a determined plan of my mother’s while our family was grieving. I didn’t yet have the clarity—or the footing—to say no. Decades later I can see how that choice shaped relationships. I don’t blame my earlier self; I notice the conditions. Buddhist teachings and psychology help me read that moment with more kindness and more discernment.
Separate and connected
Two lines guide me here: the Buddha’s “Be a lamp unto yourselves” and Winnicott’s “We are separate but connected.” Your lamp lights your way, and others can see its glow. That’s conditionality too: our becoming is never solo. We are shaped, and we shape—together.
Ritual of Reflection
If you’d like, bring to mind one early “environment” that shaped you—mothering or another caregiving presence. Gently notice how it lives in you now. What boundary or thread of connection wants a little care today?
