We live in a world that seems increasingly obsessed with speed.

We expect our computers to start instantly, our applications to open immediately, and every action we take to produce an almost instantaneous response. When something takes a few seconds longer than we expect, we often describe it as “slow”.

But I sometimes wonder if we’ve simply become too impatient.

I am not against fast software. Of course I enjoy it when something happens immediately, and there is something wonderfully satisfying about using software that feels responsive and effortless. But I don’t believe that speed is the only measure of good software, nor do I believe that every moment spent waiting is necessarily a wasted moment.

I am quite happy to wait.

My computer isn’t new, but it isn’t ancient either. I run Arch Linux on an Intel i5-3470 with 32GB of DDR3 memory and a Radeon RX 570. It is perfectly capable of doing almost everything I ask of it, although there are certainly times when a newer computer would complete a task more quickly.

I don’t mind.

If I start something that takes a little while to finish, I can simply step away. I can make a cuppa joe. I can sit somewhere peaceful and listen to some ambient music. I can think. I can write down a few thoughts that have been floating around in my head.

The computer is still working. So am I.

Perhaps there is something valuable in that small gap between asking a machine to do something and receiving the result. We have become so accustomed to filling every second with activity that we sometimes forget how to simply wait.

Patience, I think, can be found.

It may not always be easy. We are surrounded by devices and services designed to remove every possible delay from our lives. But patience is still there somewhere. Perhaps we just need to go looking for it.

There is also something strangely human about waiting for a machine. It reminds us that computers, for all their incredible capabilities, are still tools. Sometimes they need a moment. Sometimes a task is complicated. Sometimes a photograph takes a little while to process or a program takes a few seconds to start.

And that’s okay.

Of course, there is a difference between waiting and fighting with software. Nobody wants to spend their day staring at frozen windows, unnecessary loading screens, or interfaces that make simple tasks unnecessarily difficult. Software should still be thoughtfully designed, reliable, and pleasant to use.

But perhaps we have pushed the idea of speed too far.

Maybe software doesn’t always need to be instantaneous. Maybe a few seconds of waiting isn’t something that needs to be eliminated at all costs. Maybe those seconds can occasionally be a gift.

The next time my computer takes a little longer than a modern machine might, I don’t think I’ll see it as a failure.

I’ll see it as an invitation.

An invitation to step away from the screen, put the kettle on, listen to some music, and remember that there is a world outside of the machine waiting too.

Sometimes, I think, there is an art to waiting.

And perhaps it’s an art worth rediscovering.