It is already late and I'm soon going to hit that comfortable numbness that comes from having been active physically but mostly mentally a whole day. Since coming back from Denmark more and more of my time has been swallowed up by chats over coffee, meetings, lunches, workshops, and all the distractions that comes with doing a PhD. A kind of paradox has become apparent. Coming back to Norwich has increased the amount of things I do but actually decreased my thesis output. Being cut off from the academic community when I was in Denmark (at least physically) brought with it lots of thinking and writing for my thesis, and I see now that I have to actively choose not do stuff here if I want to be satisfied with my work and stay sane at the same time.

But it's been good coming back. I feel unusually light and happy with where things are going and I have felt both excited and grateful about work this week. Which is undoubtedly because it started off in the best possible way with an encounter that brought with it a deepening of perspective. Having read a good deal of Andrew Taggart's writing I knew that we were going to have an interesting conversation, or at least, that's what I expected. But I didn't imagine the kind of conversation we'd have – perhaps as a researcher I should try and do that, some kind of playful conversational imagining. No, that would lead nowhere. I rather think it was Andrew's skills as a conversationalist and observer that brought new metaphors and images into my research and thinking.

I look forward to listening back and having transcribed our conversation. There were lots of things in there which have undoubtedly already slipped my mind. What I think of now, in connection with where I am in this research diary, is how he helped me put my own narration of the Dark Mountain into words as well as clarify my relationship with the academy. To start with the latter, I am struggling to bridge being a PhD researcher with leading a flourishing life mainly because of the hurried pace of the academy and its division of life into separate spheres. It is sometimes a bit of a tightrope walk to do what I am most passionate about and to be dealing with expectations, 'service commitments', time pressure and deadlines. At the same time, I feel extremely privileged to be able to do my own research project for three years (and get paid for it!). And when the circumstances are right, or when the sources of frustration are limited, it is thoroughly enjoyable. It was ultimately my research that took me into the conversation with Andrew. Facing eight months of fieldwork is really exciting. The question which I will eventually have to deal with is whether I can inhabit an institution like the university long-term.

In terms of my own Dark Mountain narrative, I see it as a place to make sense of life and becoming rooted. I've sat with this image of my life consisting of separate circles for a while now. And the task as I see it is to not get stuck, create new shapes of the different circles and to draw them into the larger circle of a whole life. In a similar fashion I think of Dark Mountain as a place where we can step out of the circle that is modern life with its linear logic of one-upmanship into a larger circle where we can begin experimenting with living differently. Perhaps it is a different circle altogether or a different shape. At least it is not compatible with central aspects of modernity. And it is a figure where learning and sharpening one's powers of observation, learning to be with things and not imposing one's own wants on them. So, a movement from one circle, or logic, to a much larger kind of figure. The circle is apt because it is self-containing and unable to draw anything else but itself endlessly.

Making sense and becoming rooted. It is only now that I see a connectivity between our conversation and a previous line of thought: we talked about the process of uncivilization as countering the idealisation of nomadic life (in the modern sense of valuing mobility and not wanting to be 'tied down' to a place) and finding out what it means to be a settler today. Settling, making roots, and connecting with place ultimately also entails invoking, or re-making, new infrastructures and social models. Now this is directly connected to a previous entry: “I also hope that whatever might be said about my part in this, it will transpire that all I wanted was to find a home” (Finding home, 12.01.12). This is how I described my own circumstance: “As someone who does not have one home I feel a level of kinship with migrants. At least: I know the discomfort of not fitting in, struggling to translate words, norms and values, questioning my own actions and doubting my worth and right to exist. Migrants (most human ones at least) are often uncomfortable in the world having been cut loose from the ideas of a long term future which a home can give. All they have are directions to places”. In this sense, I strive to find a place to settle or at least to become settled in life.

And now the words falter under the weight of the day. Sun Kil Moon take me to bed.