Dāna: Giving
Dāna is the act of giving, the first training a householder takes up. Handing over grain to a poor brother in the year when debts are cancelled anyway is the plainest form of it: the hand opens and nothing comes back. Practice starts here because it is the one thing anyone can do on any morning, whatever else they have not mastered.
Macchariya: Stinginess
Macchariya is the mind's grip on what it holds. A heart grieved while the hand is still giving is that grip showing itself, and it shows up early, in the man who watches the seventh year draw near and starts counting what release will cost him. The pinch is felt by the one holding on well before the neighbor at the door feels anything at all.
Cāga: Open-handedness
Cāga is the settled willingness to let things go, counted as a form of wealth in its own right. An ungrieved heart is what turns a transfer of barley into cāga: you part with it the way you set down a heavy bag at the end of a long walk, glad to be rid of the weight. A hand that opens while the heart still clings has passed on the goods and kept the burden.
Cetanā: Intention
Cetanā is intention, and intention is what an action amounts to. Two men hand over the same measure of barley, one with his eye on the ledger and the other freely, and they have not done the same deed. Blessing rides on the state of mind at the moment the hand opens, which is why the heart is put under instruction alongside the gift.
Puñña: Merit
Puñña is the store of good that a wholesome act leaves behind in the one who does it. Blessing across all your work and all you put your hand to is that store ripening, arriving through the crops, the herds, the household, in no fixed proportion to the loan you wrote off. Generosity works like farming rather than trading: seed scattered now, harvest coming up on its own schedule, in fields you were not thinking about when you gave.