As the Winter Solstice passes, the land itself seems to pause and listen. Across the country, the air carries different voices now. The dark does not arrive as emptiness, but as presence, a thickening of attention. Sound travels further in this season, and silence feels less like absence than invitation.
Radio belongs to this hour. It is not an announcement but a threshold. In the long nights, it offers a place where imagination can loosen its grip on certainty, where dreaming is not indulgence but orientation. Sound becomes a companion rather than a demand, opening space for the creative, the uncanny, and the half-heard to surface without explanation.
We find ourselves thinking of King Lear on the heath, stripped of title and protection, exposed to weather and voice alike. What remains for him is listening. Not to command or chorus, but to the quieter inner register that only speaks when authority collapses and the world grows bare.
Distraction Therapy moves within this terrain. It treats radio as a listening practice, not a platform, and sound as a way of sensing rather than informing. At the solstice, when darkness turns slowly toward light, this kind of attentiveness feels necessary. It reminds us that imagination is not an escape, but a way of staying with what is unfolding.

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