Oh, what a feeling, dancing in the streets

It is 8.30am on Saturday morning, the morning after the last night of door knocking on the appeal. Last night was magical in so many ways.

We hit the streets for our last night of fundraising believing that anything was possible. In one final night of fundraising the team made £205 in standing orders, that's £12,300 for Karuna in one evening. Put in real terms, that's fourteen - 14 - kids that are going to get places in hostels from the age of 11 to 18. They will be off the street, receiving love, care and attention, an education, and a way out of poverty. They will have every chance to have choices in life, build a home and a family, look after their loved ones, and stand tall, proud and confident. Despair will be replaced by faith for many of them, and they will make it through hopefully, to adulthood, and be able to contribute what they learn to their communities, families and beyond. They will have beaten the caste system in their minds, and that's half the battle. They will grow up knowing they are good enough to take their place in the world, that they belong, and this sense I hope for them will make all the difference. They will know that they belong, they can contribute, and they will have the sense that they are enough.

Before going out on the streets I feel intensely nervous all of a sudden. I think it is because everything is coming to an end. I still have a big target for the evening to make £57 in standing orders. I contact the part of me that wants to really enjoy this evening no matter what happens. I walk the streets feeling nervous, and it is showing on the doors. I feel a bit awkward when people I call back to say they've not read the booklet yet, and can I come back and I have to say no, that it's my last night, and ask them whether they've got time to go through it now, or at some point this evening, and I'll come back. Or I give them the forms if they seem genuinely interested, and an envelope and let it go, or I take the book back. It is hard to sit with the feeling that it is my last night, and somehow I'm having to talk about the end of my volunteering to these householders. It does not come easy.

After about half an hour, I realise I'm feeling full of doubt. I stand by a red letterbox and contact my feelings of doubt, really be with them. I close my eyes, take a step forward and step into love and giving myself a hug, and letting myself know it will be ok. I stand still and try to be with this. I take another step, into possibilities, and I contact the sense that it is possible for anything to happen this evening. I stand still and try to be with this. I take a step forward and contact myself and my connection with the universe and all it's magic. All of a sudden the universe turns the colour of yellow, the colour of abundance, and yellow forms are starting to flow around me. I smile, and move past the red letterbox. There is now a spring in my step, and I've dropped my feelings of doubt and insecurity in the letterbox, and posted them somewhere else.

The next house I knock on gives me a £6 donation...it's a start I think. When money is coming towards you, any money, it's been my experience that it's a good thing and bodes well. The next householder, Anthony, invites me in and we have a long chat, mainly about Buddhism, and about his job, he is a museum media consultant. He gives us a £100 donation. I try my best to make it into a regular standing order, but he's clear around his reasons for not doing anything regular, and I feel I was really able to explore it with him and then let it go. He also says that he never gives to religious charities, so I've had to help him with getting a good sense of what we do and answer any questions he's got about it. We part and he says he's going to look into Buddhism some more because he's really interested and loves our approach. I think to myself, that's quite a turn around.

A few doors later I meet a woman who is putting a small girl to bed. She is struggling on the doorstep to talk to me and meet the needs of her young daughter. I've never met this woman before face to face, my only interaction with her was behind the closed door, when she was busy, but from her voice I decided to ask her if I should post something through her letterbox, she said yes, and something in her voice told me that she was genuine about wanting to engage. When I called back the other night I talked to her babysitter. Tonight I make an appointment to go back at 9pm, when the little one will be in bed. I still have no real idea if she will sign up, but she's told me she's really interested, so I think it bodes well.

Later that evening, I contact despair on the streets again, I've not made any money and I let go again into this sense that it is Boddhisattva work, selfless work, and that there is nothing out here for my ego to grab a hold of. I feel genuinely happy to be doing this work for Karuna, and just keeping on going.

At 9pm I call back to the woman's house. It's her husband who comes to the door. He invites me in and looks friendly. Sabine and Ralf's house is colourful and full of children's toys. They clear away the seatee for me to sit on, and I sit down. They tell me they'd like to support us, which I say is great, but they say, the only thing for them is that they don't support religious charities. We chat about Buddhism and how I see it and they've clearly read the booklet thoroughly because they know that we only do Buddhist work with people that are already Buddhist. To try to "convert" people to Buddhism against their wishes (or "convert" them at all) is against Buddhist ethics for me. We explore a bit about Buddhism and that it's about people freeing themselves from the prison of self (I don't put it that way, but we talk in a way that we can all connect). Sabine asks me about the bracelet that I have on, it's made up of plastic skulls. I talk to her about impermance, and how it reminds me that everything changes, everything comes and goes, and that there is only really the present moment in our lives, and it's what we do with the present moment that really matters.

Sabine says she's quite interested in exploring meditation. Once they are satisfied that they can specify all their money will go to our social projects that are open to people regardless of religion, they sign up. Ralf fills in the form, they have decided to give £50 per month. I am bowled over, and let it in, and they start to ask me questions about my volunteering and how I feel on my last night. They bring me a big glass of fresh orange juice and we chat for a while about my experiences, and about where there money will be going and how I hope that they will have a good experience of giving to Karuna and get a lot out of it. They are a lovely couple, and their standing order totally amazes me, it's the most I've ever signed anyone up for, and I can't quite believe it's my last call back of the evening. I tell them that they have made my night, and that the team will be so happy when I return with the form.

As I leave, the full moon glows in the sky, and the Universe is absolutely full of magic in the dark night as I unlock my bike. Ten minutes later I realise that I've left my jumper in Sabine and Ralf's house and I go back to get it. They seem very pleased to see me again, and are grinning and feeling good.

As I cycle home I get off my bike on the road and pull over onto the pavement and double check the form for third time this evening. I want to double check the dates are all fine and the amount and the signatures, because a part of me cannot believe that they have just given this much money to us. It's all there, and everything is fine. I cycle home, my eyes sparkling with delight.

The final team totals read £1022 in standing orders, that's over £60,000 for Karuna. We are so chuffed. Abhilasa and Naomi both made over their individual targets of £270. Paddy is a while off his target but has just texted twenty of his friends to ask them for help. He says that he feels a bit ashamed about this, but I feel so proud of him. I've not had the guts to ask my friends for help on this appeal. I let him know that I'm so proud of him and that what he's done is fantastic, and that he's reaching out. There is part of me that knows that Paddy will not be satisfied until he's made more and more money for Karuna, and that targets mean nothing to Paddy, it's all about the work, and he'll be back making more money for Karuna in the future, and blasting through any target anyone dares to set him.

I made £260 and have decided that falling short of my individual target by £10 is by far made right by receiving £50 from my last call back and the elation of seeing the smiles on Sabine and Ralf's faces. I will just have to "let it go" and a part of me believes that one of my other householders that I've left a form with might send one into the office. You have to believe that the universe has this master plan for you, and that it's not quite been revealed to me at the moment, and all I can do in the present moment is let go and connect positively to all that has happened.

At 11.30pm we are dressed up and ready to go out. We hit our local bar, the Oak bar, Hackney's finest lesbian establishment. A part of me feels like I grew up in this bar, many of my friends, and dates, and girlfriends have frequented this place over the years, and it holds a special place in my heart. I've not been in for a couple of years. Tonight it's very quiet and the DJ's are (ironically) playing drum and bass, jungle and techno. This meets none of our team's musical tastes, apart from me, but we all dance into the early hours and have a great time just being together. Music and dance has been a huge part of the appeal experience for us.

When we return we eat gluten free snacks and drink cups of tea, and relax in the knowledge that we have given everything we have and more to these last six weeks, and we enjoy the feeling that tonight we are all heroes.