If all of the six perfections are based on the expectation that human beings develop the freedom to sculpt themselves and their circumstances in liberating ways, then the perfection of toleration is essential to this effort. Without the developed capacity to face difficulties that arise in constructive ways, there is little hope of enlightened movement or progress. Building calm endurance through insightful understanding of our circumstances, we avoid stagnation and the deepening of suffering that goes with it.

So early Buddhist texts maintain that the first step toward overcoming self-destructive habits in response to suffering is developing the ability to accept suffering as part of life. This is why the “truths” of Buddhism begin here – they require at the outset a psychologically difficult admission: that suffering will inevitably be part of life and that everything depends on how we face up to that fact and how we cultivate our capacity to see it through constructively.

Skill in moral life entails cultivating an understanding of the Buddhist concept of karma, patterns of moral causality that are thought to govern all human transformation. Although karma literally means “action,” the principle of karma concerns the connection between the quality of an act and the nature of the consequences that follow from it. Actions of a particular quality give rise to consequences of a corresponding kind, and this is thought to be a law inherent in the nature of things. …

What remains constant across a wide variety of interpretations is the thought that all acts generate consequences that shape the character of the actor. Not all acts are thought to be productive of karma, however, because karma is restricted to those done with volition, intention, or purpose. Moreover, changes in human lives brought about by the karmic consequences of an intentional act are thought sometimes to follow immediately from the act and sometimes to arise over time. This idea is extended beyond the range of a person’s present lifetime to the point that the quality of a person’s acts governs the form that a future rebirth will take. Karma and rebirth are thoroughly intertwined in Buddhist thought, and the combination of these two teachings more than any other set of moral ideas serves as motivation for moral action. …

The fact that what becomes of a person is based on the qualities of actions undertaken makes moral decision making central to Buddhist practice. If the goal is to become something in particular – a wiser, more compassionate, more enlightened person – then the actions that have the power to generate that state will need to be skillfully chosen and enacted with a disciplined mind. Buddhist texts therefore frequently link mindfulness to the practices of morality, thereby connecting morality with meditation. Śāntideva, who goes so far as to say that “the perfection is the mental attitude itself,” writes extensively on “guarding awareness,” because only by diligently shaping one’s mind will acts conducive to negative karma be eliminated. So he writes: “If I let go of the vow to guard my mind, what will become of my many other vows?”

The Perfection of Wisdom Sutras divide the practice of giving into two types, following the lead of the earlier Buddhist tradition. At the most basic level is the gift of material goods of various kinds, especially those goods necessary for life itself, and at the higher level is the gift of the dharma, the teachings, the very possibility of a spiritually significant life. But the teachings are powerless if hunger and poverty stand in the way. So the sutras teach compassion for all levels of human suffering and demand that material generosity be the first order of business for an authentic Buddhist. Therefore the Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom asserts: “Do give gifts! For poverty is a painful thing. One is unable, when poor, to accomplish one’s own welfare, much less that of others!”
Six Perfections: Buddhism & the Cultivation of Character, p 18-19

The perfection of wisdom is pictured as more than just the highest and most exalted of the bodhisattva’s virtues; it is the one that brings the others to fruition. The first five perfections are initially practiced at ordinary levels of understanding and then nurtured to the level of perfection when wisdom is applied to them. Therefore, the Perfection of Wisdom in Eight Thousand Lines says: “For this perfection of wisdom directs the six perfections, guides, leads, instructs, and advises them, is their genetrix and nurse. Because, if they are deprived of the perfection of wisdom, the first five perfections do not come under the concept of perfections, and they do not deserve to be called ‘perfections.’ ” Wisdom is also said to encompass the other five perfections: “It is thus that the bodhisattva, the great being who trains in this deep perfection of wisdom, has taken hold of all the six perfections, has procured them, has conformed to them. And why? Because in this deep perfection of wisdom all the perfections are contained.” The image of encompassing the other practices of perfection leads the Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom to claim that “when the bodhisattva trains in perfect wisdom, he acquires all the accomplishments which he should acquire.”

If by “self” we mean a permanent center of subjectivity, something fixed, self-established and independent of the world around it, something fully in command of its own existence and knowable as such, then careful observation leads to the conclusion that there is no such entity at the heart of human subjectivity. That single realization became perhaps the most important focal point for Buddhist meditation, and the sutras challenged practitioners to examine and test its truth in introspection and philosophical analysis.

The “no-self” claim is not the end of Buddhist reflection on this matter, however. In fact, it is just the beginning. If there is no self in the sense of a permanent soul, an independent entity whose experience this is, then who am “I”? Buddhist answers differ substantially depending on by whom, when, and where the question is posed. But one early and enduring articulation attempts to divide what appears to be a unified “self” into operating divisions or functions. Human beings, they claimed, are composed of five always impermanent components that are observable most directly from within but also in some way from the outside. These are the five skandhas, five components that make human experience what it is. They are (l) a body whose five senses make contact with the world; (2) various feelings of approval and disapproval in response to perceptual stimulus; (3) conceptual thinking that classifies and manages perceptions and feelings; (4) volitional forces that guide our movement through particular wishes and desires; and (5) self-consciousness that holds all of these components together as a relatively unified subjectivity in the world.

Different Buddhist texts and different translations of them divide these components up in different ways. But the important point is that, from a traditional Buddhist point of view, no one element constitutes the soul or self – the one you really are. Instead, human existence is imagined as a loosely configured movement in and among these various components as they shift and change over time.

In transition from the first three perfections to the final set of three, the classic texts of Mahayana Buddhism announce a significant shift of emphasis. The first three – generosity, morality, tolerance – are appropriate practices for anyone. The final three, however – energy, meditation, wisdom – operate at a higher level of spiritual awareness and therefore tend to be the focus of monks, nuns, and others who give priority in their lives to spiritual practice and insight. At this point in the practice, high levels of energy are required to undertake the practices of concentration and meditation prescribed in the fifth perfection, and in order to sustain the transformation in personal orientation experienced through insight and wisdom in the sixth. Thus, energy marks the transition from one level of practice to another, from preparatory exercises to a loftier level of endeavor. …

The final three perfections, beginning with energy, mandate a movement beyond these initial levels of practice. They are more abstract, less worldly in character, and their rewards are more difficult to visualize. But once they are initiated, the final three perfections begin to provide the basis on which the first three can be more profoundly comprehended and thus more wisely practiced. The transition between the two groups marks a point beyond which focus on enlightenment is more clearly defined. It is in this light that one sutra claims that “where there is energy there is enlightenment.”

Kṣānti, translated here as tolerance and elsewhere frequently as patience or forbearance, has been a central virtue throughout the long history of Buddhism. It was one of the ten perfections of the Buddha praised in the early Pali sutras and continued to develop in range and significance in the unfolding of Mahayana Buddhism. Śāntideva goes so far as to claim that “there is no spiritual practice equal to tolerance.” Then, having given more cursory treatment to the first two perfections – generosity and morality – he backs his claim by devoting a full chapter to the perfection of tolerance. There and elsewhere we begin to see the qualities of human character encompassed by the perfection of tolerance.

Kṣānti means “unaffected by,” “able to bear,” “able to withstand,” and in that dimension indicates a strength of character, a composure, and a constancy of purpose that allow a bodhisattva to continue pursuing universal enlightenment in spite of enormous difficulty. Emphasizing that basic dimension, this third perfection could also be translated as the “perfection of endurance” or the “perfection of composure.” Bodhisattvas who have trained in this virtue are imperturbable and well-composed, calm and focused in the midst of adversity. Through deliberate self-cultivation, they build the capacity to withstand danger, suffering, and injustice, to resist the onslaught of negative emotions, and to think clearly under the stress of turmoil. They attain an “admirable constancy” that, even in face of enormous opposition, equips them to move effectively when others have been overwhelmed.

From the earliest periods of Buddhist history, morality (śilā) was understood to be fundamental to the practice, often interpreted as the starting point of the Buddhist path or as a prerequisite for it. The early Buddhist monastic community organized itself around a set of ten precepts and a much more detailed set of monastic rules (vinaya) that served to guide practitioners and establish them in a very specific form of life. These were broadened and adapted to the lives of lay followers in separate lists and codes of virtue specifically tailored to the circumstances of nonmonastic life. Regardless of these differences, however, morality was considered fundamental to Buddhist practice. … The most basic moral teaching for Buddhist monks and nuns, and therefore the one most committed to memory, is a list of ten precepts, the first five of which constitute the moral fundamentals of the laity. These require that a Buddhist refrain from (l) harming living creatures, (2) taking what has not been given, (3) inappropriate sexual activity, (4) false speech, (5) intoxicants that lead to carelessness, (6) eating after midday, (7) attending entertainment, (8) wearing jewelry or perfume, (9) sleeping on luxurious beds, and (10) handling money. These precepts are considered “paths of training” (śiksā-pada) because they function not just to prohibit immoral behavior but also, more importantly, to transform the character of the practitioner. In fact, in all forms of Buddhism, morality is “perfected” when an enlightened motivation takes hold, a motivation in which moral rules are no longer the focus of attention. When nonattachment, compassion, and wisdom prevail in the mind, then morality is thought to function naturally without recourse to rules and prohibitions. The precepts are part of the path of training meant to inculcate states of mind from which moral action might one day flow naturally. …

[T]en virtuous acts (daśakusala).

The ten acts of virtue are applicable to all Buddhists, monastic and laity, and are typically taught in terms of restraints on body, speech, and mind. These include abstention from (l) killing, (2) stealing, (3) sexual misconduct, (4) lying, (5) slander, (6) harsh, derogatory speech, (7) frivolous speech, (8) covetousness, (9) anger and malice, and (10) false views. The first three recommend restraint for the body, the next four delimit speech, and the final three refer to states of mind.