Where Something Begins To Shift: From The Arctic To Tinos With Chloë Rain
- by XpatAthens
- Thursday, 04 June 2026
For years, I kept returning to the Arctic. Friends would ask why. I never had a satisfying answer.
I had first traveled to northern Norway on a vacation after a heartbreak. It seemed random at the time, and about as far away from my former life that I could imagine myself going.
Again and again, I found myself drawn back above the Arctic Circle. To long stretches of wilderness where mountains rise directly from the sea. In summer, the sun never fully sets. The mountains hold a strange blue glow that seems to suspend time completely. Nothing moves except weather drifting across the fjords. There are long stretches of silence where the only sound is water and wind moving through the landscape.
Eventually I decided to return North through a research application and study at the Arctic University of Norway. My research in Indigenous Studies was focused on the landscape of Sápmi and how the concept of sacred shapes our relationship to place and our inner world. This unfolded alongside fifteen years apprenticing with Indigenous healers in Peru, where the natural world is understood not as material or scenery, but as something alive — something capable of shaping consciousness itself. Mountains, rivers, forests, and even stone exist within a living relationship with human beings. That understanding had deepened over the years and became something real and alive within me.
In the years I spent living above the Arctic Circle, I traveled even farther north into the Sámi regions, spending long periods alone in the landscape and studying the relationship between cosmology, perception, and place. Walking. Watching. Listening. The more time I spent alone in nature, the less interested I became in finding answers. Instead, I became fascinated by thresholds — liminal spaces where one form dissolves before another has fully emerged. When something is ending, or beginning, but we cannot yet name it.
Most of us want to move through these periods as quickly as possible. Yet some landscapes seem to ask the opposite. There is a gradual shift that comes through sustained contact with the land itself. Attention sharpens. The pace of thought slows enough for something else to emerge beneath it.
Years later, that same feeling surprised me, when I first arrived on the island of Tinos. Externally, it could not have been more different from the Arctic landscapes I had come to love. The North offered vast distances, dramatic mountains, cold summers with endless light, and colder winters in sustained darkness of the polar night. 
Tinos offered a different kind of light and warmth, dry stone terraces, wind, sea, and an entirely different history. And yet, beneath the surface, there was something deeply familiar about the pull of the island. There was that same slowing. That same subtle reorganization of perception that happens when a place opens you to a new understanding of yourself.
I had not planned to move to Greece. But within months, my life shifted dramatically, and I found myself moving to Tinos.
Today, my work on Tinos emerges directly from these years spent living in relationship with landscape, transition, solitude, and the unseen thresholds that shape a human life. Some people arrive here because something in them already knows change is coming. Others come simply because they are seeking respite, authenticity, or a different rhythm for a while.
What happens on the island is difficult to explain logically. The pace softens. Time opens. The quiet longing inside you rises to the surface and comes into focus.
Living on Tinos year-round, I have come to love the changing seasons and the wildness that emerges across the island at certain times of year. And I remain interested in the same question that first drew me north: Can certain landscapes change us? Not metaphorically or because we have a meaningful experience while visiting them. But through the relationship; sustained long enough for something hidden inside of us to begin to reveal itself, as though it were sprouting from the landscape itself.
Inspired by Chloe's journey? Learn more about her work and explore her upcoming Tinos retreat here, a chance to immerse yourself in the island's unique rhythm, reconnect with what matters most, and experience Greece in a truly meaningful way.