Reflecting on Life During a Quiet Arctic Hike in Lapland

After weeks of Arctic darkness, the sun was finally starting to make an appearance again.

Not much of one, but after the polar night, I’ll take what I can get.

I had a day off work and decided to go hiking around Saariselkä, the small village in Finnish Lapland where I was living at the time. The plan was simple: seven kilometres, fresh air and a little time away from my usual routine.

There was just one small problem.

It was −25°C outside.

I wondered whether hiking in that temperature was really such a good idea. But I’d spent enough time indoors lately.

Life During the Arctic Winter

Don’t get me wrong. I loved living in Finland.

Moving to Saariselkä had been an incredible experience. I was living north of the Arctic Circle, surrounded by landscapes I’d previously only seen in photographs.

But there’s a difference between visiting somewhere for a week and actually living there for months. When you’re on holiday, everything is exciting. You wake up, go exploring, take pictures and enjoy every moment because you know you’ll soon be going home.

When you live there, life eventually becomes life again.

You go to work, come home, maybe go to the pub for a beer, and do it all over again. During the polar night, when it’s dark for most of the day and freezing cold outside, it’s not always easy to find the motivation to do much else.

I was happy there. But that didn’t mean I never had days when I felt a little lost or wondered whether I was doing enough with my life.

I suppose everyone has those moments, no matter where they are.

Seven Kilometres at −25°C

Getting dressed was already a bit of an adventure. Too many layers and I’d end up sweating. Too few and I’d freeze. I packed some water and protein bars, put on my winter clothes and headed out.

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  Winter in Lapland

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  Winter in Lapland

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  Winter in Lapland

Everything around me was covered in snow. The trees, the paths, the surrounding landscape. Some of those trees were so covered in white that they looked like little snowmen standing in the forest.

But most importantly, it was quiet.

One of the things I loved about Lapland was how peaceful it was. You could walk through the forest without hearing much of anything around you.

At some point during the hike, I stopped and looked around. And I started thinking about where I was.

I was actually living in the Arctic.

Not visiting for a few days. Not passing through on another trip. I’d moved here, made a life for myself, and somehow this snowy forest had become part of my everyday surroundings.

It’s funny how quickly you can get used to something that once seemed extraordinary.

I stood there for a while, and I felt so grateful.

I even prayed.

Then I started talking to myself.

Yes, alone in the middle of a forest at −25°C, having a conversation with myself. Completely normal behaviour.

I think I needed that moment.

All Those Thoughts I’d Been Putting Aside

I’d had a lot on my mind before that hike. Questions about my life, what I wanted to do next, the places I’d been and the experiences I’d had. Sometimes I’d wonder whether I was doing the right things or making enough of the opportunities I had.

It wasn’t that something was terribly wrong. I just had thoughts that had been building up over time without really giving myself the chance to deal with them. And somewhere in that quiet forest, I finally had the time to think about them.

One of those thoughts was writing.

I’d been thinking about getting back into it for a while. I wanted to document my travels, the countries I’d lived in, the people I’d met and all the things that had happened along the way.

But I kept putting it off.

Who was going to care about some random guy walking through the snow in the middle of nowhere? Would anybody actually want to read about my experiences? And even if they did, what was I supposed to write about?

I had plenty of ideas, but somehow I always managed to find a reason not to act on them.

That day, I began looking at it a little differently. Why did it matter so much whether somebody else found my stories interesting?

I’d lived through those experiences. They mattered to me. And even if nobody read what I wrote, I’d still have something to look back on one day.

That was one of the reasons I wanted to create Midnight Travelers in the first place. Not to pretend my life was perfect, or that every trip was some incredible adventure, but to have somewhere to share the good moments, the difficult ones and everything in between.

And maybe, along the way, figure out a few things about myself too.

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  Winter in Lapland

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  Winter in Lapland

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  Winter in Lapland

Sometimes You Just Need a Little Time Alone

I didn’t come back from that hike with all the answers. And I certainly didn’t suddenly become a completely different person.

Most of the things I’d been thinking about were still there. But I felt better, like I’d finally given myself some time to acknowledge them instead of constantly pushing them aside.

I also realised that I wanted to spend more time outside, even during those freezing Arctic months. As much as I loved living in Lapland, sometimes I was so caught up in my everyday routine that I forgot to appreciate where I actually was.

And that seemed like a bit of a waste, considering where I lived.

After that hike, I started taking my writing more seriously. I began putting my thoughts and experiences into words instead of endlessly thinking about doing it.

It wasn’t some dramatic life-changing moment.

I went for a walk because I needed to get out of the house.

I came back feeling better. And with something I finally wanted to write.