Greg Kiper

It’s Sunday afternoon on a typical Pacific Northwest spring day – cloudy, rainy and cold for those of you that don’t know and are not dangling at the end of the rope of seemingly endless gray. And yet I’m sitting here with this amazingly warm glow of peace, contentment and love. It’s like I just

“Pay attention, son!” I heard it way too many times to count or remember when I was a child. I was my dad’s first child – and a boy, which for him meant that I must be indoctrinated into manhood by the time I was in elementary school. He probably would have started that process

Odds are, at some point today you will find yourself juggling an assortment of electronic devices whether on your desk, in your car or perhaps the floor (if your juggling skill needs a little work). Surrounded by some combination of headphones, speaker, laptop, tablet, phone, or speakers you will be waiting patiently (or not) to

If you’re a hugger, the last few months have been tough. More than once we have found ourselves arms outstretched, frozen for a moment mid-step, and then retreating as we shake our head. One more bit of solace and assurance that the pandemic has removed from our repertoire of connection. We’ve got our pods, of

The Grateful Dead’s lyrics have been ringing especially true as I’ve been thinking about this last year. Long – maybe; strange – without a doubt! Who could have ever imagined the script of 2020? Truth is indeed stranger than fiction and in this case, it’s also acutely painful – it’s almost too much even for

I immerse myself daily in books and articles on therapeutic approaches, neuroscience, philosophy, culture, and the spiritual aspects of our being. I find the study of our brains and consciousness and how they tie to our sense of meaning and existence fascinating. I’m not an expert on these topics; however, through my extensive studies, and