Life on a Karuna door-knocking appeal

Looking back
Working on a Karuna door-knocking appeal is said to be the ‘classic’ transformative team experience: learning to ask something meaningful of another human being in a way that is authentic and sensitive and, in doing so, helping others who are much less fortunate than oneself. Jenny Roberts has recently returned from one such appeal and now she looks back at how it was for her.

It's a beautiful sunny day and I'm relaxing in the shade of a tree on a caravan site somewhere in Surrey. I've been on holiday for the last week, and the Green Tara Appeal that seemed so all-consuming at the time, is now no more than a memory. During the last few days I've been reflecting on how those six challenging and intensive weeks might have changed me. And I have to say that I have absolutely no idea. Which is less than helpful when I'm writing a blog that I hoped might convey the transformative nature of Karuna door-knocking appeals.

But bear with me, all is not lost. While it may be hard, subjectively, to notice any changes in myself (maybe that's for other people to assess anyway), it certainly isn't difficult to appreciate how much I've learned during those six weeks.

The most obvious teaching has been that of impermanence. Time seems to have moved on so rapidly, so tangibly that I'm left a little dazed by the process. Just over seven weeks ago I was sitting on a train heading for London, feeling apprehensive and unsure of what to expect, not knowing whether I would survive the appeal, wondering whether I would fit in. Fast forward a little to the first excruciating role-play in training, then again to that first scary evening on the doors, the first meeting of our community when we attempted to reconcile all our diverse needs and expectations, the steady improvement in confidence, that first intoxicating direct debit on the doorstep, the hard-knocks of feedback and the challenges of being with, and accepting, uncomfortable feelings day after day, the joy of constantly being valued and nurtured by my new friends and of valuing and nuturing them in return, the support of all of our teachers and, finally, that exhausting, exhilarating, joyful and inexplicable final week when we achieved the impossible and smashed our target beyond all expectations.

Somehow l think I've learned to value the present moment in a different way. An understanding that however hard it might be - or however easy - it isn't going to last. I believe I know something more, about patiently being where I am and simply experiencing whatever it is that I am experiencing - without trying to ignore it, push it away or hold onto it. I think I've learned a little more about equanimity too. Staying grounded with the feeling of success has been much harder than staying okay with the feelings of not doing so well. Intoxication takes many forms.

I've also learned someting about confidence. Not the outward bravado that hides the fear within, but the kind of inner certainty that allows me to trust that I am far more than I think I am. And to accept that that is enough to get me through. Over the length of the appeal I have been with my vedana (feelings) almost constantly, snuggling up to and stroking the unpleasant ones, trying to accept the pleasant ones without trying to prolong them.

There have been periods of intense spiritual death: when I admitted my fears about fitting into a women's community, when I realised that I had fallen back into old (and very male) habits on the doors, when I went nearly a week without a direct debit after being at the top of the chart the previous week. Moments too of a smaller, though no less valuable kind when a householder was rude, or simply ignored me, when someone who was pleasant on the first knock was irritated and closed-down on the call-back, when the evening's door-knocking yielded no rewards and Mara whispered in my ear that all this was pointless (and so was I).

And there have been gentler moments of self-transcendence as well: talking to the wife of a man who had been paralysed suddenly and really feeling her distress and confusion, conversations with a man who had just lost his grandfather and whose mother was incapacitated by grief, the connection with so many people who cared about others, who had their own stories to tell and who offered real encouragement to me in my fundraising work.

There was the feeling too, that I was bringing loving-kindness to my streets and to each door - connecting in a very special way with complete strangers. Finally, there was a rich sense of connection with the people behind the doors and with my beautiful community back at the flat above the London Buddhist Centre. It really felt as if they were out there with me on the streets each evening.

Which brings me to my appreciation, and perhaps a little more understanding, of pratitya-samutpada (conditioned co-production: that everything arises on conditions and ceases when those conditions cease). Conditions of all kinds were impossible to ignore during those six weeks. How I was on the doorstep affected, to a greater or lesser degree, how the person behind the door was - and vice-versa. In the latter part of the appeal I made great efforts to be more interactive and to allow more space for the householder to respond to me. It was very noticeable how this created the conditions for much deeper communication between us (and more donations). In the final week I started to challenge wrong views about poverty and the response to it, and this too resulted in a deeper connection with people who might well have shut the door on me in the earlier weeks. Most still didn't donate but maybe I planted the seed of greater generosity with a few of the people who were 'giving enough already' or who 'never give at the door, on principle'.

I noticed too how meditation helped me keep my feet on the ground and moderated my inclination to believe that I was the centre of the universe. I noticed how the care taken on the training helped me break through the barriers on the doorstep and deal with my own potential feelings of rejection. How sometimes other people's conditions and conditioning affected me - pleasantly, unpleasantly, movingly and humorously. I learnt how to create better conditions for myself - by going slower, letting go, indulging in a little idling between doors or a sit in the park. I learned to stop clinging to outcomes and began to really see that just being, just resting in each particular moment with tenderness and acceptance was enough.

The biggest lesson that I have learned is about communication and intention. It is what I struggle with most of all, and this appeal brought it right into focus. I have been deeply moved by by the love and Anuruddha-like friendship of my friends in the community. How they have so often demonstrated what it means to care about the wellbeing of others ahead of oneself. Between them, they have given me the gift of seeing another path to transformation.

I confess it fully, that I too often believe that I am at the centre of my universe. I'm too easily drawn to talk about myself, to believe that this is the most interesting subject of all. In my ignorance I often forget to remember others and to take an interest in them. To ask about their feelings, their experiences, their sense of who they are. To take delight in their lives and to rejoice in the interconnectedness of all things. To give myself generously to others, rather than tending to wonder 'what's in it for me'.

So what I take away, above all else, is a personal precept to continue working on and letting go of this sense of self that gets in the way of where I aspire to be. I'm resolving to try much harder to really see other people, to try and bring more awareness to all my interactions. To learn, and practice, the skills of drawing other people out as well as allowing myself to be drawn out by them.

Finally, as I said at the beginning of this blog, I feel an acute awareness that time has moved on and that good things have passed. I miss my friends in the community, I miss being around the LBC and amongst so many kind and beautiful practitioners. I miss the people and the streets that became so familar to me during those six weeks. But I rejoice wholeheartedly in the people I have met and the lessons I have learned. It has been an enormous privilege to be one of the Magnificent Seven of the Green Tara Appeal and it is a memory which I shall treasure for the rest of my life.

I am so grateful for all the riches that the experience has given me. And for the very real financial riches that will be helping to improve the degraded lives of countless men, women, and children in India. Now, the final lesson for me is to let go of those challenging, uplifting and joyful six weeks and move on. Not so easy.

Still... next year, I hope to be back on another appeal.

Would you like to join me?

Fundraising as Spiritual Practice
A Karuna Appeal has a daily programme similar to being on retreat, but with the added element of asking strangers for money each evening! The resulting intensity can support a dramatic deepening of spiritual practice - for some greater even than their ordination course - and also leads to successful fundraising. Why? The people that you meet on the doors have none of the usual investment in pleasing you, and so will instead respond only to you as you are: friendly or curt, present or distracted, engaged or listless.

Sangharakshita once described this as "objective feedback par excellence". And of course you want something from these people: you would like them to take a booklet about Karuna's work and later sign a direct debit. More often than not this wish is not fulfilled - in a sense you are rejected - and you are challenged to respond positively and creatively to this. For if you do not, there is no reason why the next meeting will go any better!
Read on at: http://www.appeals.karuna.org/index.php/the-experience.html

Life on a Karuna door-knocking appeal

Previously (a week ago) on the Green Tara Appeal: Our actual target for the whole appeal is £1791 and with just 6 evenings to go we are still £739 short. So, between us, we need to find around £123 each evening in monthly donations. A big ask when we've averaged around £64 in the last four evenings. It's a daunting task and the Green Tara Team really have their work cut out over the remaining days and evenings....

Day 41: Living on the Wild Frontier

It's our last full day of the appeal, at the end of week six - the culmination of four evenings that can only be described as gobsmackingly amazing. There is no doubt that the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas have been with us (one of them in particular has joined us in a very literal sense).

Our week began with two powerful invocations: to Amoghasiddi, the Buddha of unobstructed success, and to Ratnasambhava, the Buddha of supreme generosity and abundance who holds the wish-fulfilling jewel in his left hand. Then just before our departure on Monday evening we chanted the Tara mantra as usual. So, armed with all the riches of our spiritual practice, and Amalavajra's exhortation to take risks and challenge the views that obstruct generosity, we went forth onto our territories.

And something magical and beautiful happened. Something that simply can't be rationalised. Something so extraordinary that it had to be far more than the sum of our joint efforts.. On Monday evening we returned with direct debits to the value of £209, easily our best day ever. On Tuesday evening we brought home £243 and on Wednesday we smashed through the appeal target with another extraordinary evening that raised £201 in direct debits. Thursday evening consolidated this unobstructed success with another £130. This means that, with one evening on the doors still to go, we have reached an incredible total of £1958.93 against a target of £1791.

It's been an exciting ride this week. Literally for Jamie and Sanghamani who took to toy scooters to speed their way around their spread-out areas. And for Dantacitta, who brought home a beautiful metal figure of Tara, generously bestowed by a complete stranger. For Amitasuri too, whose chance conversation with a stranger on the tube, resulted in him making a special trip to the LBC to leave a completed direct debit form.

There have been many magical encounters for all of us, but for me, my abiding memory of the week is the connection forged through openness and love with so many people in my area. On several occasions I've had a sense of stepping out of myself and challenging views about not giving and encouraging people to reconsider their idea that they are already giving enough. And far from creating any kind of bad feeling, this actually seems to have helped to make an even greater - and more authentic - connection. I know that other members of the team have been similarly bold and open. We are no longer the "nice" Buddhists who knocked on doors in week one. We are something much more. Something much more real.

And the truly wonderful thing is that, each time I've left a new donors' houses there seems to have been a tangible and painful sense, on both sides, of a connection between us being broken. A kind of awkwardness that filled each parting space like a small but precious sense of loss between us. I have really valued those partings because they speak of so much.

So as we prepare to head out on the last evening, there is a real sense that we have achieved someting very special during these six intensive weeks.We are celebrating changes in ourselves brought about by some of the most intensive Dharma practice most of us have ever encountered. We are celebrating our own beautiful Green Tara community and the lovely people who have helped us along this path. We are rejoicing in the people we have met at the doors and in the amount of money we have raised. But most of all, we are, I think, most mindful of the perhaps hundreds of people in India, for whom our success means the end to a life of hardship and degradation, and the dawning of joy and light in their lives.

There will be one final update tonight on this page to let you know the final score - and then the Truly Magnificent Seven is going to party! Then, tomorrow, we will all go our separate ways. There will be tears. But, for now, there is real joy.

1.44 am. It's all over and the Green Tara Team has ended the appeal with yet another record night. Everyone scored tonight with a record £312 of direct debits which brings the grand total to £2271.68 per month. That's 127 % of target, worth £136,300 over the next five years (the average life of a direct debit).This has been one of Karuna's most successful appeals of the last few years, we are told. So sadhu! to The Magnificent Seven!

Life on a Karuna door-knocking appeal

Day 34: Hitting targets, not hitting targets, or both or neither

The last day of week five and the heat is on for the Magnificent Seven of the Green Tara Appeal. The pace has picked up and the direct debits being collected are definitely on the increase.

But even though we are volunteers, these appeals still cost money to run, so our appeal target is based on a sound assessment of costs (in accomodation, travel, training, support etc.), and how much needs to be raised to cover those and leave a major amount over for Karuna's projects in India. So far, between us, we've raised a very respectable £1051 in monthly donations - that's £63,060 of income for Karuna over the next five years, enough to help a great many Dalits escape the poverty and degradation of their lives.

Yet, this is not nearly enough. Our actual target for the whole appeal is £1791 and with just 6 evenings to go we are still £739 short. So, between us, we need to find around £123 each evening in monthly donations. A big ask when we've averaged around £64 in the last four evenings. In practice, we are assured, the last week is always a blockbuster, but even so, it's a daunting task and the Green Tara Team really have their work cut out over the remaining days and evenings. On the other hand we've all built up a lot of contacts, and we have our practice, our friendships, our sraddha (faith), and of course Green Tara to help us on our way.

Most significantly, over the last five weeks, we've learnt a lot about ourselves and about fundraising through the Dharma. So, as we enter the final phase of this appeal, I thought it would be good for each of us on the team to share our thoughts about what is important when knocking on doors and asking for long-term support.

Sanghamani says:
Start with your feet on the ground, rested and curious... an open heart and a focussed mind. With a willingness to connect, meet and be met. Bring all of you. If not... the bits you left behind will be waiting to meet you behind each door.

This is from Jamie:
Be authentic. Articulate from the heart, the work that Karuna does that moves you. If people are receptive, they will hear that and be inspired.

Dantacitta advises:
Be yourself and learn from everyone's experience, respect and care for your community and, most of all, trust that even behind the most unlikely door, a Buddha is waiting to greet you.

Prakashika makes an observation:
On the basis of making a connection with people, it's then a matter of getting clarity from them. Are they open to the possibility of helping, or are they just being nice? OR are they not being nice but might care?

Amitasuri says:
To begin with, pay urgent attention to however you are, wherever you are; be it as you walk towards your territory, as you stand in front of your first, and each successive, house. Notice what you notice - about the house, the garden, the door. Then, turn your attention inwards to be present to and take care of whatsoever arises in you. Be open, spacious, receptive and notice anything that is other than your true nature, which is reality itself.

Sally adds:
Be brave, even when bravery is not what you think. Tremble if you need to tremble, and know that your dragon can breathe fire when you are ready. Above all, go forth to connect with all life beyond those doors... and sing loudly.

And I'll end with:
In the first intance, door-knocking is not about asking for money. Rather, it is about making a connection with another human being, and through that connection, giving them the opportunity to be kind, generous and compassionate to others less fortunate than themselves.

So here we go on the last stage of the appeal. At this point we have everything going for us: our friendships, our training, our passion for Karuna's work and our hard-won experience over the last five weeks.

£739 to go...

Will the Magnificent Seven, manage to pull out all the stops and make the target? Will the people behind the doors respond generously? Will Wimbledon and Glastonbury conspire to make this the wettest week of the year...

We can't say but we do have umbrellas - and one thing is absolutely certain. Come rain or shine, over the next week we'll be doing our very best to end this appeal on the highest possible note.

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FOOTNOTE: Karuna doorknocking appeals raise money to help some of the millions of ex-'untouchable' people of India who live in extreme degradation and squalor. I believe that it is my moral responsibility to do whatever I can to help them escape the prison of the caste system. To help them achieve dignity, respect and basic human rights. I believe that this is also your responsibility.Please support the appeal. Please go to http://www.karuna.org and download, complete and post-off the direct debit form. Just a few pounds each month will help to free a girl, a boy, a woman or a man from a life of that is truly hellish. If you add the reference LON B 2013 at the top, your generosity will count towards our appeal. Thank you.

Life on a Karuna door-knocking appeal

Day 28: Welcoming the Demons

"The spiritual journey involves stepping into unknown territory with a hunger to know what is true. One of the essential elements of such a life is the understanding that everything we encounter - fear, resentment, jealousy, embarrassment - is actually an invitation to see clearly where we are shutting down and holding back." Aura Glaser, Tricycle Magazine, Spring 2012

The end of week four and the appeal is biting. The novelty has worn away and this has been the week when, for some of us, the demons have made themselves known, tears have flowed, and the real work - on ourselves - has begun.

Of course, I can only speak for myself, but I must say that I didn't see this coming. In the first week or two, I was on my guard, watching out for the upsets and discomforts, ready for the reactions against my self-view. There was some discomfort in role play, and some nervousness on the doors, perhaps even a slight reaction against the compromises needed when living in community. But there was nothing big. I was getting direct debits from my area, I was meeting my personal target, I was even enjoying the training.

It was all good. Too good.

Then on Tuesday Amalavajra spent some time on the doors wirh me, listening and observing, and giving me feedback. I was confident, saying the right things, and engaging, he told me. That was good, of course. But something was missing. There seemed to be an abundance of energy but where, oh where, was the spaciousness? He observed that there was plenty of male energy (virya) but not too much female energy (ksanti) and though I was doing well as a fundraiser I could do much better if I made an effort to stand back, take in the people, the houses and the gardens. If I stopped to smell the roses and enjoy the moment. Maybe, he said, I should read some poetry before I began knocking.

It seemed like helpful advice from a kind friend, which of course it was. But as the evening wore on I became resentful. My ego became bruised and self-righteous. So what was wrong with being assertive? How could being more relaxed, more spacious help me get more direct debits? Okay, I thought rebelliously, I'll do exactly what you say and, you'll see, my sales will suffer...

Ah, sales...

Sometime in the early hours of Wednesday I saw clearly what had happened. In my enthusiasm to raise support for Karuna I had fallen back into old patterns, into the old familar rut of setting targets, needing to achieve, wanting affirmation. My demons had been leaping around me, telling me that, I needed to prove myself, telling me that I was only any good if I was 'being useful'/working hard. Worse, out there on the streets, I realised that, in the rush to prove myaelf and appease my neuroses, I had lost my awareness of the Dharma. Instead of developing my Buddhist practice, I was turning back into some kind of sales person - and a sales person with rather masculine qualities at that. It was humiliating. I cried.

Wednesday was painful. I spent my morning meditation with a real sense of having let myself down. I 'snuggled' up to the pain as much as I could, accepting how I felt and reflecting on what had happened. Later, preparing lunch with two of my friends, I cried again and managed to talk about my experience. Their response was generous and helpful and the hurt began to take its place in a wider perspective. By the time we all checked in with Amalavajra my demons had lost some of their power, but other demons were emerging with some of my friends. I wasn't alone in my pain. The appeal was working its transformative magic on all of us and the demons were emerging into a space where they could be dealt with

That evening, before hitting the streets, I sat in Queens Park, listened to some Vivaldi, and watched all the people relaxing, playing games, running and walking dogs. Then as I went from door to door, I took my time, pausing between houses, admiring the gardens, trying to get a feel for the person who might answer the door at such a house, and then trying to be softer, more responsive when I finally met them. It still seemed unlikely that this was a better way of signing people up, but I could recognise that it was much more in line with my practice and the Precepts.

The results weren't good at first. To be honest I felt wounded and my confidence had all but disappeared. It was as if I had removed my armour. The demon on my shoulder was asking why I was doing this when I could be doing something much more pleasant. Another one, running ahead of me, was telling me that I was useless. I was okay being a bit pushy...but soft and responsive? Uh do me a favour! How does that work, then? Yet somehow I managed to keep going. I stopped occasionally when the fear got too strong. I stayed with the sensation of wanting to go home.Then I returned to the doors. In the end it wasn't a bad night. I got some good second appointments and I was pleased that I had faced up to the demons.

As the week progressed, I continued working on my approach, sitting in the park, appreciating the beauty of the world around me, softening, and trying to take the Dharma with me to each door. By Friday evening, interesting things began to happen. Some of my conversations at the door got easier - and longer. The call-backs I was arranging seemed weightier and three of my recalls resulted in firm promises of direct debits next week. Of course, this may just be coincidence but, somehow, I don't believe that is.

This week has been painful but the teaching seems profound. My practice is central to my life yet I know that when I get caught up in a 'project', I find it very easy to become over-focussed and to see the world through blinkers. In my efforts to 'achieve' I lose contact with the richness of life, with my connection to other people, and to the world around me.

How much better it will be if, instead of just following the Dharma, I try to make sure that everything I do is suffused with it. That there is a flavour of the Buddha's teaching in everything I say, speak or touch. If everything I do has a spiritual and ethical dimension and an interconnection with all things.

It's a big ask, of course it is. But then no-one ever said that this practice would be easy...

Life on a Karuna door-knocking appeal

Day 20: All for one, one for all

It’s nearing the end of week three and, amidst all the feelings that we are experiencing, a deep and broad sense of community seems to be emerging.

The Magnificent Seven - our own Green Tara Appeal community - continues to blossom and our friendship with each other is growing strongly. It is still almost unbelievable to me that seven strangers can come together and live in harmony together, especially with all the added pressures of an appeal like this. This is precious.

And this week, for me at least, the disavantaged and degraded, 250 million strong, Dalit community of India seems to have taken a significant place in my sense of being. I am becoming even more aware of the core reason why these appeals were originally started.
I am beginning, I think, to feel the suffering of our fellow beings in the villages and slums of India. Their degradation is becoming my degradation and it is beginning to feel that it is no longer enough to accept the casual brush-off on the doorstep. 'I already give to charity' or 'I don't give on the doorstep' don't seem acceptable any more as reasons for turning away from the suffering of the millions of men, women and children in India who are experiencing a living hell. Somehow I need to get that over to the people I am appealing to. Somehow I need to communicate that deep sense of responsibility to them.

The community and facilities at the London Buddhist Centre are also a big plus to us in this appeal. Usually we might be operating from some rented house in a city outside London, so to be here, supported and encouraged by the warm and friendly LBC sangha is a great benefit and we are grateful for their great generosity in allowing us to use their facilities. It often feels as if we are being showered with love as we pass back and forth during each day.

Then, finally, there are the communities out on our territories - human beings who experience both joy and suffering just like us. And on each doorstep we encounter one or the other, or something in between. I think we are learning that our job is to be open to however they are and, with awareness and kindness, offer them the opportunity to allow their natural generosity shine through.

Knocking on doors and asking for money is never going to be easy, this side of Enlightenment anyway. It exposes us to the world and to our own sense of inadequacy and fear. Out on the streets there is no place to hide and we have no option but to come face-to-face, not just with the people behind the doors, but also with our own self-view. Which is why the practice is so valuable. Which is why a Karuna Appeal can be so transformative to each of us as individuals. And within that, I think, lies a very particular kind of joy.

So, given that it is so tough, how is it that we all, willingly, take a deep breath and step out into the unknown for three hours every evening? Well, I think that some of the important reasons include the sense of community which I talked about above, and of course there are other more personal motivations. But there are other conditions, equally important, that are also supporting the Green Tara Team in this great endeavour.

The first is meditation. Our day begins at 8 o’clock with a sit in one of the London Buddhist Centre shrine rooms. For me, at any rate,
morning meditation is really important. It prepares me for the long and intense day. It grounds me, and helps me to remember my interconnectedness with the world: that the people I will be meeting in the evening will each be a part of the conditions in my life at that moment - and that I will be part of theirs. Whatever happens on the doorstep - pleasant or unpleasant - will be affected by these conditions. So it’s important, that I act in a kind and authentic way.

Breakfast is eaten in a nourishing silence which is followed by a busy hour when those of us on the dinner schedule that day prepare the main meal which we eat each weekday at half-past one. Around ten-thirty we join Amalavajra or someone else for our daily training session. This is an incredibly important part of the appeal. Most charities employ agencies to do their door-to-door asking and, sometimes, it seems, they are not well-trained, don’t call back on people and often lack the interpersonal skills needed for a positive interacton. As a Buddhist charity, Karuna approaches door-knocking very differently, so our traing concentrates on helping us to connect with people in a very genuine and authentic way. This includes work on body language, tone of voice, matching energy levels, speech ethics, awareness of circumstances and more, The aim is to 'meet' the householder wherever they may, to help them feel 'seen' and through doing that, establish genuine communication.

Training is followed by the big meal of the day after which we have two precious hours of free time when we can rest and recharge in whatever way is appropriate. Then at four o'clock we meet in the shrine room again, chant the Tara mantra, and sit for a short metta bhavana meditation when we offer a sense of loving-kindness to ourselves, a team member, someone in India who will benefit from our work, and someone who we will be revisiting that evening. Midweek and on Sunday evenings, we do a puja to help us establish a more emotional connection with our practice and our appeal work.

Our afternoon ends with a snack and a short video about some aspect of door-knocking Buddhist practice. All of these activities are extremely useful in setting up good conditions before, just after five, we head off to the tube and make our way to different areas of West London, some of which are more than an hour away.

Heading out each evening is, for me, a tense time, even though this is now an established routine, even though I know that I will be okay on the doors, even though I am getting direct debits and meeting wonderful people who inspire me with their friendliness and generosity. Yet each evening, it is still a trip into uncertainty. I cannot know what tests and challenges lay ahead. But, really, that's no different to life itself. We never know what the next minute holds and, for me, door-knocking helps me let go of always wanting to fix things so that I feel safe and secure. It is helping me to let go of my need to control the future and instead rest more easily with whatever happens.

Getting home again, around 10.30 is a beautiful, sometimes exciting affair, when we compare experiences, support those who have had a tough night, celebrate with those who have returned with cash donations or direct debits and offer our hard work, learning and money to the Buddha, for the benefit of all beings. So, once again, at the end of the day, it is community that shores us up and inspires us to keep on doing this. It is community that holds us and cares for us after a hard night. It is even, I would say, community which is with us, walking behind us, giving us added strength out there on the streets. I am not alone out there. In a very real sense, each of us is with the others.

We get to bed sometime close to midnight, ready for a good sleep, ready to do it all again the following day.

This week we got our individual and team targets. So far, at the half way point, we've achieved around 25% of the overall target of £1791 in monthly direct debits. This achievement may not seem particularly good but, apparently, this is quite normal. The greater part of the money is always raised in the last few weeks.

So will the Magnifcent Seven of the Green Tara Appeal, smash their target over the final crucial weeks? If we can, then we will have raised the truly magnificent sum of £107,500 over the next five years - the average life of a charitable monthly donation. Enough money to have a big impact on the lives of hundreds of women, men and children. Enough money to bring dignity, respect and joy into their world.

So just how magnificent are the Magnificent Seven? Nothing is certain, but you can be sure that we will do our very best. Meanwhile, keep following this blog and I'll let you know how the future unfolds.

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FOOTNOTE: Karuna doorknocking appeals raise money to help some of the millions of ex-'untouchable' people of India who live in extreme degradation and squalor. I believe that it is my moral responsibility to do whatever I can to help them escape the prison of the caste system. To help them achieve dignity, respect and basic human rights. I believe that this is also your responsibility.

Please support the appeal. Please go to http://www.karuna.org and download, complete and post-off the direct debit form. Just a few pounds each month will help to free a girl, a boy, a woman or a man from a life of that is truly hellish. If you add the reference LON B 2013 at the top, your generosity will count towards our appeal. Thank you.

Day 14: Magic Happens

"Ask yourself, 'Is there joy, ease and lightness in what I am doing. If there isn't, then time is covering up the present moment, and life is perceived as a burden or a struggle.'" Eckhart Tolle (Practising the Power of Now)

The end of week two and things are moving on, here on the Green Tara Appeal. I'm pleased to say that Amritasuri and Jamie are both well again and have rejoined us. Now we truly are The Magnificent Seven.

This week Amalavajra has been encouraging us to cosolidate our experience so far and begin to develop more subtle skills in our interaction with others (more of which later); we've been guests at the Karuna Trust's office, learning about their amazing work in India (and treated to a truly scrumptious chilli non-carne for lunch); and we've spent a lovely morning with Subadramati, looking at timely speech.

Out on the streets, things are moving on as well, Sanghamani brought in the first direct debits and now all of us that were active last week have brought back a selection of these precious monthly donation forms - plus a fair sprinkling of cash. The experience is changing too. I can only speak for myself, but it's very clear that this amazing and challenging experience is having an effect. I had a pretty good first week but, even so, I was very conscious that deep down in my psyche there was a definite wish to be somewhere else, doing something different. It was tough at times and it took a good deal of resolve to keep moving on to the next door - and the next step into the complete unknown. This week I've felt more relaxed, as if this is what I do now, and that's okay. Though I must admit that when I pass a nice restaurant or bar, full of people relaxing, there is a small part of me that would like to stop what I am doing and join them.

Except, of course, there is a much bigger part of me that doesn't want to do any such thing. What I am doing seems right, almost, dare I say it, comfortable - even exciting. A week ago, I felt slightly guilty about disturbing people, I was apprehensive about their possible reactions and after each rejection I felt a need to take a deep breath, re-group as it were. I was also investing a lot of hope and expectation in each house, particularly when I called back for a second visit to someone who looked promising. Inevitably, this led to disappointment and sometimes took me the edges of disheartenment.

There was a kind of watershed last Tuesday when I visited 23 houses for the second time. Everyone of them was out, hadn't read our booklet yet, or said they wouldn't donate. I could easily have been devastated but there is something about the way we are held on this retreat that stopped me doing that and, instead, I took a long, hard look at the way I was communicating with people. It seemed very clear that 'quantity' wasn't working and that I needed to change my approach to less people with a greater connection.

So I stopped spending time on the kind of houses that I already knew, even from my limited experience and training, were never likely to produce donations. And I concentrated on those that were more likely to. Then in training, I looked for ways to interact more. Up until that point my approach had been limited to a few words about Karuna's work and then a silent prayer that the householder would read, and be impressed with, the booklet. This didn't work well at all, so instead I resolved to develop an approach that was more inclusive, where, as often as possible, I stood next to the person I was talking to and used the booklet as a prompt, turning pages and talking about our different approaches to the degradation and poverty sufferred by so many Indians at the bottom of the social scale.

This approach was consolidated when Bodhiketu (a very kind man) accompanied me on my rounds on Thursday evening. He stood silently behind me on each call, listening and watching - and, kind or not, it was a nerve-racking experience. But it was a great help. It's encouraging that my communication skills are improving but it's clear that I still have a good way to go. In my anxiety to 'get the message across' I am still forgetting to leave space for the other person to respond. And when they do manage to respond I'm not very good at asking them questions - and including them fully in the conversation.

Plenty of chances to practice that in the next week!

Two weeks into the appeal it feels like the Buddhist practice behind door-knocking is beginning to reveal itself. However, there's a paradox. On the one hand I am here to find donors - and more specifically money - for a charity that I am passionate about, knocking on doors and sometimes evoking a less than happy response. On the other hand I am a practising Buddhist trying to be kind, trying not to chase after material things or have expectations about outcomes. The two might seem poles apart, yet in a way, if held lightly, they are not different.

In practising my own generosity by doing this appeal, I am also offerring a real opportunity for others to be generous as well. I'm trying to be as authentic as possible on the doorstep, trying to connect with other human beings in the kindest possible way. It feels like a very real connection too, something like a doorstep metta bhavana practice.

I am also doing my best to practise equanimity. During the last week I've been trying to expect nothing. To simply keep knocking on doors, talking about the valuable work that Karuna does, being natural, and enjoying the simple human contact. I'm beginning to take the view that if I let go of this thing I call 'self', with all its hang-ups and fears and fixed views, reach out to others with authenticity and kindness, and rest in what Pema Chodron calls hope-less-ness, then Magic will happen

And it works. Last Thursday evening, at around 9.00 o'clock, I called back at a house that I had visited a few days earlier. I felt positive but open to any outcome. A delightful Irishman who I hadn't yet met, opened the door, told me how much he admired Karuna's work and invited me in. While he filled in the direct debit form his wife and young daughter (who I had met) greeted me like a friend, and when I sat down, their small, furry, teddy-bear-like-dog came and laid out on my lap and asked for a cuddle.

There was something very special in the air just then. A huge sense of gratitude: from me on behalf of Karuna and the people in India whose lives will be changed by the money; but also from the family who were giving. It was almost as if I had opened a door which enabled their own loving-kindness and generosity to shine through. They were so delighted, so grateful for the chance to help -and it really showed.

A few minutes later, in another house - and quite unexpectedly - it happened again.

So Eckhart Tolle's quotation at the beginning of thi piece, really moved me when I read it and, this coming week, after a welcome rest this weekend, I'm going to try to develop an even greater sense of joy, ease and lightness. I'm going to be as authentic and open and as responsive as I can be - at every door, on every street.

And, eventually - I am quite certain - Magic will happen, again and again.

Day 3: Out on the Streets

It's the end of the first week and we've all survived. Unfortunately two of our team - Amitasuri and Jamie - have been poorly and therefore unable to join us on the first few days of the Karuna door-knocking appeal. However we're hoping that they'll both be fit and well very soon.

I must say that, generally (and perhaps surprisingly) we seem to have enjoyed ourselves. Speaking for myself, I'm having a great time. Not that it's always been easy, but there is something very special - and challenging - about what we are doing. And amongst all the nervousness about whether I can really bring this off, there is a simple joy around what we are trying to do and the beginnings of an appreciation of why this practice is said to be so transformative. In training, and out on the streets,

I am learning to stay aware. So that, when someone opens their door, I am sensitive to them, their mood and their situation, and can respond appropriately. I am appreciating how my own mental state sets up conditions for my potential donor, so between each call I am reaching into stillness and approaching each door with a sense of kindness and acceptance for whatever I might find there - regardless of whether I'm going to like or not. And whether the householder smiles or frowns; whether they welcome me or say that they are not interested, I am trying to respond naturally and kindly from my awareness, rather from some memorised script.

Of course, this all sounds fine in theory but it is much harder in practice and I'm noticing myself falling short. Talking too much, filling space, and not allowing the other person time to respond is, I think, my major working ground. But it's fascinating work, not least because people are so very different. I've had the odd door shut in my face and been ignored more than once but I seem to be doing okay at not taking it personally, knowing that behind the next door there will be a different person and (hopefully) a different response.

On the whole people are very polite and some are very kind and supportive, even if they aren't able to donate. According to my call cards I've knocked on 132 doors over the last four nights some of which I've visited more than once. Most people say they aren't interested, some can be persuaded to take a Karuna booklet to read and agree to a call back after they have read it, a few are very open and responsive and willingly take the booklet. Maybe these personal responses are unchangeable, but I'm not so sure. It seems that the way I am: my awareness, my tone of voice, my receptivity, my kindness, my energy, equanimity, patience and my sraddha - my faith in my Buddhist practice - can all make a difference on the doorstep. And, similarly, the lack of them has an effect as well.

Yesterday, in our training with Vajradakha, we learnt a door-knocking Metta Bhavana, where we wished for the wellbeing of ourselves, a team member, a low caste child in India and a householder who we were due to see again that evening I found this immensely helpful and last night, in spite of a long run of "no's", I felt very positive about moving onto the next door.

All in all I've had four good evenings with quite a few, second visits coming up next week It's only one week and we are still beginners, tackling the basics. But as the weeks pass and our training and experience grow, it's beginning to feel that our appeal - the Green Tara Appeal - really might raise a lot of money for the projects in India

My final call last night, at 9.30, was a second visit to see a beautiful young woman who I had spoken to earlier in the week and who told me proudly that she was half-indian. She was so moved by the work Karuna is doing and, although on a very limited income, she eagerly offered a small, but worthwhile monthly direct debit. Naturally I was pleased - it was my first donation but there was something else that pleased me even more...

Her name, she told me, was Tara.*

I can't imagine a more auspicious end to the first week

*In Buddhism the figure of Tara represents compassion

Day 2: Settling in and setting out...

Seven strangers coming together on a Saturday afternoon: Dantacitta, Prakashaka, Sanghamani, Amitasuri, Jamie, Sally and myself. Only Dantacitta and Prakashika, (both from Australia), knew each other well.

It could have been a recipe for chaos: six of the seven had never lived in a Buddhist community or done a Karuna Appeal before. Add in two days of intensive reporting-in and workshopping, then complicate further with meals to cook, jobs to organise and settling in to do with no spare time at all to do any of those things

But, in fact, writing on this on Tuesday evening it feels like the process has been a delight. Maybe intensity of the first few days has been a catalyst, helped by Bodhiketu's preparation of both the flat and the appeal and by Amalavajra's kind and skilful leadership during those first days. No doubt our Buddhist practice was a major factor as well. But whatever it was, our spiritual community began to flower and it was no time at all before we began to experience the kind of interaction that simply couldn't be planned: we've invented meals 'on the run', cooked in the spaces between training, done ad-hoc shopping trips and organised basic household routines as we've gone along.

Not that it has all been plain sailing - we are seven very different people with different backgrounds, different preferences and different reactions to the pressures. But with goodwill, openness and, most of all, kindness, we have already achieved a harmony which I for one wouldn't have thought possible a few days ago.

Our frst full day (Sunday) began at 8am with meditation, followed by a detailed check-in about the things that might be holding us back. For me there was the usual first day neurosis that, given my background, I might not fit in with six other women. This felt uncomfortable and scary but, talking openly about my fears to my new friends, I was met with immense kindness and understanding and the problem just seemed to dissolve.

After an afternoon of more introspection, we took time out to join the LBC sangha on the evening for a very special Buddha Day puja, followed by an equally special dedication ceremony of our own for the appeal. By then, little more than 24 hours after arriving, it was beginning to feel like we were already coming together as a community.

On Monday the training grew more intensive with role-playing sessions, something that is well outside my comfort zone. I'm not quite sure which made me feel more uncomfortable, playing the 'householder' being approached, or the Karuna door-knocker who was doing the approaching. It's one thing talking to a potential donor on their doorstep, quite another acting it out in front of an audience. Yet even I have to admit that the process has been invaluable, so much so that, by this morning, I was really beginning to feel that I might just be able to bring this door-knocking thing off.

A good job too because later on yesterday Bodhiketu gave us our territories and, Amalavajra packed us off on the Tube to recce the streets where we were to begin door-knocking this Tuesday evening. My patch is an hour away in Kilburn, a beautiful area of well kept terrace houses in neat streets, close to fancy restaurants and pubs in the south and a mosque and flat-land to the north. Overall, it looks like a great area to ask for regular donations to Karuna's work. But we shall see. The proof is in the pudding.

The Karuna appeal team is about to be tested.

Have we absorbed the training so far? Are we really going to manage to ask for (and get) regular donations? Will we ever get round to making out a proper shopping list? For the answers to these and other burning questions you'll have to wait until the next instalment

Or life on a Karuna fundraising appeal

Ready, set, go...
So here I am sitting on the 10.58 from York, heading for Kings Cross and, for once, I have no expectations about where I'm going or what it's going to be like. I'm going to be staying in Bethnal Green, at The London Buddhist Centre, for 6 weeks as part of a small team, knocking on suburban doors, introducing people to the work of the Karuna Trust and, ultimately, inviting those who show an interest to consider taking out a regular donation. I've never been to LBC or done a Karuna appeal before, so this feels like a real step into the unknown.

There has been a mixed reaction from friends and relatives to this, going all the way from enthusiastic encouragement to downright disapproval. Then there are others who have shaken their heads and said, "Oh I couldn't do anything like that". As some people have also pointed out, it's hardly likely to be a walk in the park. So why on earth am I doing it?

There are three main reasons.
First off, The Karuna Trust does incredibly important work in India, helping some of the 170 million people there who suffer fear, oppression and violence because of their caste or ethnicity. These people from from the Dalit ("untouchable") communities are routinely denied basic human rights including access to education, healthcare, legal protection and decent livelihoods. Karuna gives them the chance to escape - but to do that, they need money. By stepping out of my life and into the appeal for 6 weeks, I hope to encourage some people to donate some of that money. It seems a small sacrifice for someone like me who enjoys such a comfortable life.

My second reason for doing this appeal is, paradoxically, that it won't be easy. My Buddhist practice is about letting go of 'self' - this fixed idea of a 'me' which places Jenny Roberts at the centre of the universe. Going outside my comfort zone, knocking on doors, dealing sensitively with the majority of people who may not be pleased to see me at first (or at all), seems a pretty good way of letting go of my own importance. Then of course there is (hopefully) the challenge of raising lots of money and not letting that go to my head either!

The third reason is that during these 6 weeks, I'll be living with the rest of the team in our own community house at the London Buddhist Centre. That means rubbing along with 6 other women and learning to get along with all our different personalities, habits, likes and dislikes. Hopefully another opportunity to further my Buddhist practice through forebearance and generosity - and, just as important, a chance, I hope, to form deep and lasting friendships and to be a part of LBC for a while.

More succinctly, the Karuna website describes these appeals as,"the ‘classic’ transformative Karuna team experience: learning to ask something meaningful of another human being in a way that is authentic and sensitive"

As I type this I'm aware of a feeling of deep apprehension swelling around in my belly like a great ocean of uncertainty. But it's just a feeling arising in my awareness and I'm welcoming it as a friend, letting it sit with me as we journey south together into who-knows-what-it's-going-to-be-like land.

If you would like, you can come along and share this adventure with me. I'll be posting every few days, talking about the training, the mechanics of the appeal, life in the community and the experience on the street. Most of all, I'll be talking about how it feels to be doing this - the good bits, the hard bits, the joys and the humiliations - and, come what may, I'm going to try to be as honest as I can so that you can get a real taste of what it feels like to be an Appealing Buddhist.

If you would like to find out more about the work of the Karuna Trust please go to http://www.karuna.org

By Paul Robinson of the Yorkshire Evening Post

Published on Thursday 28 February 2013 13:24

Read the original web article here: http://www.yorkshireeveningpost.co.uk/news/latest-news/top-stories/leeds-buddhist-centre-oasis-of-peace-amid-modern-life-s-bustle-1-5457346

Amid the hustle and bustle of the city centre’s Leeds Bridge area, there lies an oasis of calm.

The location is Hunslet Road’s Leeds Bridge House – better known to many as the ‘flatiron’ building close to the Adelphi pub.

There, above offices used variously by travel charity Sustrans, property firm Headingley Lets and Leeds Counselling Services, can be found the Leeds Buddhist Centre. The centre is a registered place of religious worship and operates as a self-funding charitable company. Part of Buddhism’s Triratna tradition, it has a team of experienced teachers that includes 49-year-old mum Uddyotani.

Uddyotani, who was plain Helen Doherty of Chapel Allerton before she was ordained, agrees that the centre’s daily routine offers a happy contrast to the rat race outside its windows. She said:

“This is a haven, this is a beautiful place. “People coming here might not find everything as they would expect – we do not wear robes, for instance. What they will find, though, is an opportunity to discover space and awareness. That doesn’t necessarily mean they will be able to escape from the painful things in their lives. What they can get is a more truthful view of the world.”

Around 800 people from across Yorkshire are on the centre’s mailing list, keen to keep up with its activities. A few hundred people each year take one of its courses offering an introduction to Buddhism and meditation. Every Thursday around 20 or 30 people gather at the centre for its regular ‘friends night’. It gives them a chance to meditate with others and share ways of deepening their understanding of Buddhism. The centre also runs secular courses called Breathworks that support people from all backgrounds living with pain or illness.

For more details about the centre, visit www.leedsbuddhistcentre.org or ring 0113 244 5256.

Buddhism is based on the teachings of Siddhartha Gautama, who lived in the fifth century BC and is today commonly known as the Buddha.