When Infinite Possibilities Met a Hard No
Listening for truth in the space where silence is demanded
For over 15 years, I’ve received Notes from the Universe - those cheerful, encouraging emails sent by Mike Dooley, affirming our creative power and reminding us of the infinite possibilities life holds. They often lifted my spirits, gave me pause, or offered a moment of light just when I needed it. So when I joined his Infinite Possibilities membership group, attending his Tuesday online gatherings, it felt like entering a circle of spiritual companions - people dreaming big, reaching inward, and reflecting outward.
It was, for a time, a learning experience and a joy.
Then, more recently, more and more boundaries appeared.
Not healthy, evolving boundaries rooted in dialogue or mutual respect - but silencing ones. I was gently warned, then explicitly told - several times - that I should not mention animals. Not their suffering. Not the environmental cost of their exploitation. Not the health outcomes of eating them or the milk and eggs cruelly stolen from them. Not the spiritual dissonance of excluding them from our circle of love.
I had shared - with care - the ways that embracing veganism had opened my life to deeper compassion, healing, and alignment. I had mentioned the sentience of animals, the suffering inherent in dairy and egg production, the climate devastation that animal agriculture fuels. I had offered these not as demands, but as reflections of the principles Mike teaches - unity consciousness, the power of focused thought, and manifesting the life we dream of through aligned beliefs and intentions. But for me, that dream isn’t complete unless it includes justice for all beings - not just the dreamer.
And while he said some people in the chat were upset, I also received messages of support - people writing “I’m vegan too,” or “Thanks for sharing your thoughts,” and “I agree.” One elder woman told me she was going vegan to support her husband’s critical illness, and asked me to continue helping her on the journey. During the monthly breakout sessions, where five or six of us would gather to speak more personally, the responses were even more affirming. Some participants asked thoughtful questions about health, ethics, and planetary impact. Others thanked me for expanding their awareness and understanding. There was real curiosity, real connection.
Still, Mike asked me not to bring it up again. Not in group chats. Not in breakout rooms. Not even quietly, by handing someone a slip of paper recommending powerful films like What the Health, COWspiracy, Christspiracy, Dominion, and Food as Medicine, or books like The World Peace Diet and An Unnatural Order: The Roots of Our Domination and Destruction of Nature and Each Other.
Then recently - just last Monday - he had heart surgery. A relatively simple ablation procedure to address palpitations. I sent him a private note - no preaching, no agenda - simply a message from one caring human to another. I spoke gently about the body’s wisdom, the way food impacts our health, and how our physical forms are part of the dance of spirit and matter. I included a smile, a soft metaphor, even a carrot.
He replied: “Beautiful! Recovering now.”
But today, a week later, after he shared further health updates - including a painful struggle with urination, a catheter, and fears of recurring prostatitis - I sent another message, full of empathy, and again offered a small reflection: perhaps his body was whispering something deeper. Perhaps his food choices (particularly dairy and eggs) were asking to be reconsidered - for his own healing, and in service to the lives harmed to produce them.
His response was immediate:
“Please, Nancy, I humbly and desperately request:
Please never, ever, ever again, discuss animals with me. Not in any light, not from any angle, not from fear, not from love.”
That was the line. The door closed. Not gently - but hard. Bolted.
I sat with it. Shocked, yes. Hurt - and also clear.
Because his reaction wasn’t just about animals. It was about everything they represent: the raw, bloody thread that unravels his tidy spiritual sweater.
I was bearing witness not only to a personal shutdown, but to a philosophical fragility. His teachings, while often inspiring, are also steeped in spiritual bypassing - the denial or minimization of the material world in favor of abstract “higher” realms.
That’s why he can say he’s “a fan of capitalism,” why he can dismiss suffering he hasn’t personally experienced, and why he may genuinely not have watched the footage - because to do so would rupture the illusion that he can stay “above” it all. That’s not spirituality. That’s insulation.
And me? I’m not preaching purity or perfection. I’m living the integration - the true dance between spirit and matter, the inner and outer world, the dreaming and the doing, the blueprint and the building — not just what we imagine into being (through “thoughts become things”), but what being itself demands we imagine differently - and how things teach us to think more justly.
What I had touched was not just a personal discomfort. It was a philosophical fault line. Because to acknowledge the suffering of animals, and our role in it, is to challenge an entire worldview - one that prizes individual manifestation over collective liberation. One that often prefers spiritual escape to material accountability. One that says “you create your own reality” but avoids the reality we create together when we ignore injustice, whether human or nonhuman.
Mike teaches “infinite possibilities.” But that infinity stops at the barnyard gate.
And I understand why. Because to truly let the animals in is to let the world in - the blood, the grief, the genocide of species, yes, but also the humans bombed and starved in Gaza; the refugees drowning in the Mediterranean; the children of Yemen and Syria ravaged by war and hunger; the migrants picked up by ICE and disappeared into for-profit detention centers or deported to El Salvador’s notoriously brutal Cecot prison. It would mean letting in the protestors arrested for saying no to all this, and the systems that punish them for trying to protect life.
To acknowledge the suffering of animals is not a separate issue - it’s the root system of a larger culture of domination. One that depends on hierarchies, on unhearing ears, on closed hearts and open mouths.
It would mean reweaving the spiritual with the physical. It would mean asking not just what do I want to manifest, but what is the cost of my comfort, and who is paying it?
I don’t say this to condemn him. I once lived inside that same unknowing - eating what my mother served me, never questioning the carton of milk, the chicken’s wing or the scrambled eggs on my plate. She didn’t know any better, and neither did I. Fifty years ago, before I went vegan, there was little public awareness of the animal suffering, the health consequences, or the planetary destruction tied to what we now call animal agriculture - or, more truthfully, animal agri-torture.
But now, my joy is bound to the liberation of all beings. And I no longer see that as a contradiction to spirit - but its most urgent invitation.
So I continue - without his blessing, but with my own - walking the path of both mystery and matter. Honoring the animals. Honoring my body. Honoring the creative, aching, unfinished beauty of this world, and knowing that my voice, even when silenced, still speaks.
Even when met with “never ever ever,” I know the cluck is heard.
And I know the Universe doesn’t stop listening when someone else stops receiving.
P.S.
If this reflection resonates with you - or even if it challenges you - I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to leave a comment and join the conversation.
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