Merit in Buddhism: Ten Ways to Make Good Karma

You feed the cat by your front door, and half the day you walk around with a warm feeling. The cat got a handful of kibble, yet somehow you got the joy. Looks like a bookkeeping error. It isn't: that's how merit in Buddhism works.

In Buddhism, good deeds are tied to karma: a wholesome action leads to wholesome results. Which raises a simple question — what kinds of good deeds are there? The tradition answers with a list of ten, often called the ten meritorious deeds. The full list doesn't seem to appear in the suttas as such, but it has long circulated in Buddhist tradition. So here's the whole list.

Merit in Buddhism comes from actions that do good for you and for others and leave a special, quiet joy behind. That joy is how you recognise them. At first you may not even notice it: we're simply not used to telling it apart. But put very simply, doing good feels good.

«A good deed is recognised by the joy it leaves behind.»

The first kind is generosity, of every sort, not just money and things. Supporting someone when they were struggling is generosity. Feeding someone hungry — a person or a stray dog — is generosity too. And the practice of metta is generosity: you're giving goodwill.

The Buddha said that, put simply, the holier the one who receives a gift, the more wholesome the gift. But the bowl of food for the cat still counts. Karma's bookkeeping isn't petty.

The second kind is consciously following virtue: not killing, not stealing, not cheating on a partner, not speaking harmfully, not drinking alcohol. The key word is “consciously”. Not “it just turned out that way”, but remembering every day that this is how you live.

In the evening it's good to take stock: today I lived virtuously, I didn't break a single precept — there's something to rejoice in. Sadhu, sadhu, sadhu.

Even better, start in the morning: “Today I'll do my best to live by virtue.” That gives you two things at once. Joy — that is, good karma. And a frame of values that holds the whole day up — your life values. Admittedly, the promise is easier to make in the morning than in the evening after the work chat. That's why it's a practice.

The third kind is meditation: watching the mind, calming and collecting it, looking at yourself honestly. Gradually there are fewer and fewer unwholesome “parasite” processes in the mind that would otherwise lead to harmful thoughts, actions and bad karma. Essentially, it's the practice that removes the very soil bad karma grows in.

There's another side too. In deep meditation, past bad karma seems to surface and get neutralised — quickly and in a light version. It looks simple: you're sitting, and suddenly there are strange sensations, images before your eyes, something hard to name. Those are the fruits of past karma bubbling up and popping.

So meditation is something like a washing machine for the mind: it washes out the layers, and the mind becomes calm and clean. Gentle cycle included.

This seems to be what happened with Angulimala. He killed many people, then became a monk and meditated. And all that monstrous karma came down to being recognised one day and beaten up. Not so serious, for a past like his. Most of it, it seems, had already surfaced and popped in meditation.

The fourth kind is respect for elders. Elders aren't only older people: they're people respected in the community, people who know and can do more than you, people with more experience.

There's no need to be rude to older people, even when they don't behave their best. Respect here is your virtue, not their achievement. They've lived longer and seen more, and that alone deserves respect. And virtue is worth showing for its own sake.

Respect like this is an ornament of the mind, an action in tune with its bright nature.

The fifth kind is doing your duties conscientiously — at work, in the family, everywhere. Hinduism has karma yoga. A Buddhist does the same, but for a different reason: because it's virtue.

You could say that for a Buddhist the place of God is taken by the Dhamma. Not the teaching in books, but a great law, a force that showed itself as the Buddha and his words. And it shows itself as virtue. So by doing your work honestly, you act in line with the Dhamma and pay it respect.

Caring for your husband or wife, handing in the report on time, finally fixing the faucet that's been dripping for three weeks — all of this can be a good deed. It brings joy, peace and calm. Especially the faucet.

The sixth kind is sharing the teaching: explaining, telling, quoting the Canon, sometimes simply acting so that the Dhamma can be seen. The benefit is enormous. A few people hear one conversation, then retell it, something sticks with someone, someone changes something in their life — and it spreads like ripples on water.

Questions about the Dhamma belong here too. When you ask, you set the teaching in motion: someone answers and so shares the Dhamma. You're part of that. And if asking feels awkward, if you're afraid of looking stupid and ask anyway, the shyness you overcome makes the good karma even stronger. By the way, the question you're too shy to ask is usually bothering half the group.

It helps to remember in that moment: I'm asking for the sake of the Dhamma and for everyone's benefit, not only to figure it out myself. Though figuring it out yourself is good too — that's the next point.

The seventh kind is listening to, discussing and reflecting on the Dhamma. You heard it, thought it over, talked it through, applied it in life — that's a great deal of good karma. Even reading an article like this counts, if what stays with you afterwards is a thought and not just an open tab.

The eighth kind is sharing merit: dedicating your good deeds or gifts to all living beings. Directly, it's said, they reach hungry ghosts, and indirectly other beings too. Either way, it's good karma. It's close to generosity: you share what you've earned.

The Buddha said: if you knew the power of generosity, even when throwing away leftovers you would dedicate them to beings who are hungry. According to tradition, hungry ghosts can make use of leftovers if they're dedicated — the dedication is what matters. And microorganisms will eat those leftovers too, and you give them to them consciously as well. It's the conscious act that counts. So even the kitchen bin can become a place of practice.

The ninth kind is approving of and supporting another person's good deeds. And it doesn't have to be connected with the Dhamma.

Sometimes a person decides on a hard step: leaves a job where they were belittled for years, or finally ends a relationship that is destroying them. Psychologically it's tough. Support in that moment — “well done, you're doing the right thing, it's going to be okay” — is badly needed, and it's a good deed.

Or someone simply did something kind. Tell them: “It's great that you did that, I'm really glad to see it.” People are social creatures; they need approval and tend to repeat what's approved of. By approving of good, you multiply the good in the world and reduce the sum of suffering. In Buddhism this is close to sympathetic joy — being glad for others.

The tenth kind is overcoming delusions — your own and other people's. In many ways it's what psychotherapists do. Many beliefs turn out to be toxic and irrational: they were planted by bad karma, bad company and much else. They slowly wear a person down or get in the way of living.

Helping someone see such a belief and let it go is good karma. Examining and overcoming your own beliefs is too.

And it's especially good to explain how karma and the noble truths work. Not preaching Buddhism, but gently, from your own experience, explaining what's good and what's bad, what leads to suffering, where it comes from, and that it can be overcome.

Ten points sound solemn, but in real life they look quite ordinary.

Giving up your seat on the bus

A woman with heavy bags sits down, and you stand there feeling lighter. Generosity can be the size of one seat.

Not passing on the gossip

Coworkers are discussing the boss, and the story is juicy. Staying quiet is a good deed too: it's virtue in speech.

Praising a child who shared

Your son gave a friend half his cookie; you noticed and said “that was great”. Next time he'll share more readily.

Answering a newcomer in a group chat

The question seems basic, but you answer calmly and to the point. That's sharing the Dhamma, even if the word “Dhamma” never comes up.

Five quiet minutes in the morning

You sat, breathed, watched your mind before opening your email. A small wash before the day begins.

And this isn't a good deed

Helping, then reminding the person about it for a month. Generosity that expects payment turns into a deal.

The cat by the door has finished eating and gone about its business. The warm feeling stayed.

Maybe that's karma's most honest bookkeeping: you give away a bowl of food and get joy in return. Tax-free.