Uposatha: Observance day
A fixed day when ordinary work and wanting are laid down by agreement. Six days build momentum, and the seventh breaks it on purpose, the way a wheel keeps turning until someone stops pushing. Marking it on the calendar matters more than feeling ready for it, since a rest that waits for a convenient week never arrives.
Santuṭṭhi: Contentment
Being satisfied with enough. Six days of labor are declared sufficient, so the seventh refuses to squeeze one more day of yield out of the land and the household. A field with a little grain left standing still feeds you, and the appetite that would go back for it is the thing being trained.
Avihiṃsā: Non-cruelty
The resolve to cause no pain to what breathes. An ox and a donkey cannot ask for a day off, so their rest has to be written into someone else's law, and here they are named first, before any person is. Cruelty rarely announces itself; it looks like an ordinary working week that never stops for the animal in the harness.
Karuṇā: Compassion
Wanting another's pain to stop. The son of your servant has no power to halt the week for himself, so the halt comes down from whoever holds the schedule. Compassion in a household looks plain: the tired person is allowed to sit down, and nobody has to earn the permission.
Mettā: Loving-kindness
Goodwill extended with no line drawn around it. The alien belongs to no household here and can claim nothing, yet the day covers him anyway, which is goodwill after it has crossed the property line. A people lately worked to the bone in Egypt would recognize whose breath is being protected.
Passaddhi: Tranquility
Body and mind settling after strain. Refreshed is a bodily word first, closer to catching your breath than to feeling holy, and a donkey out of the harness with its head down in the grass has it. Ease of that plain kind is the soil steadier attention grows in, so the seventh day feeds more than the muscles.