building a business in the arctic changed how i think about time.

the way i used to measure time

Before working in Arctic hospitality and building a business in remote Finnish Lapland, I measured time the same way many people do.

Productivity. Speed. Growth. How much could fit into one day.

But life above the Arctic Circle changes that quickly.

the arctic does not care about your schedule

When you operate a hospitality business in remote Lapland, nature sets the pace. Not you.

A snowstorm changes plans. Road conditions slow travel across Lapland. Supplier deliveries arrive late because weather affects transport routes. Guests miss flights when airports close during winter storms.

During polar night, daylight almost disappears for weeks. Then in summer, the midnight sun stretches evenings so long that time starts feeling different altogether.

At first, this can feel frustrating, especially if you come from a world where everything is expected immediately. But over time, something shifts. You start realising that not everything should move fast. Some things actually become better when they slow down.

what guests teach you

Working in Arctic hospitality taught me this more than anything.

Many guests arrive in Lapland already exhausted. Not only physically, but mentally too. Their schedules are packed before the trip even begins.

Then they arrive here, surrounded by forest, snow, silence, and the slower rhythm of life in the Arctic. And for the first time in a long time, there is quiet.

No traffic outside. No crowds. No constant pressure to move.

Some people struggle with that silence at first. Others settle into it almost immediately.

You begin noticing how differently people experience time when distractions disappear.

Dinners last longer. Conversations slow down. Phones stay untouched for hours. A walk through the forest in Finnish Lapland no longer feels like something to "complete."

how the experiences themselves changed

Even the way we design experiences at Sixty Eight North changed because of this.

We stopped trying to overfill itineraries. We realised guests remember how something felt far more than how many activities they managed to fit into one trip to Lapland.

That mindset slowly changed the way I approach business too.

Not every season needs to double. Not every idea needs to scale immediately. Not every quiet period means failure.

building in seasons, not sprints

Life and business in the Arctic move in seasons. There are periods of intensity and periods of stillness.

Winter in Lapland can feel relentless. Long days. Constant logistics. Monitoring weather conditions. Preparing cabins. Managing guest experiences. Solving problems quietly behind the scenes before guests even notice them.

Then suddenly, the season ends. The forest becomes quiet again. And you realise how unnatural constant speed actually is.

operating inside nature, not above it

Building a business in the Arctic made me more patient. More intentional.

It also made me care less about looking busy and more about building something sustainable long term. Not only financially, but mentally too.

There is still pressure. Hospitality is demanding everywhere in the world. But living and working in remote Lapland constantly reminds you that you are operating inside nature, not above it.

And honestly, I think that perspective changed me more than entrepreneurship itself ever did.