How did waiting turn into the enemy?
Speed is one of the biggest promises technology ever made us. Quicker answers, quicker shipping, quicker replies, a shorter and shorter distance between wanting something and holding it. Most of the time I'm deeply thankful. I have zero interest in going back to dial-up internet or standing in line at the bank.
Still, I've become curious about what vanished along with all that waiting. We got rid of the hassle, yes. We also got rid of the pause in between, and some pretty good things used to happen in those in-between spaces.
1. Meet the messaging apps that slow you down
Clearly I'm not the only one thinking this way, because some people are going to real lengths to build the pause back in. Carrier Pidge is an app that delivers your note to a friend by virtual carrier pigeon. It doesn't land right away. It takes as long as a bird would need to fly the distance between you. Another app, Roost, lets you pick your messenger: a bird, a snail, a turtle and more.
I know this sounds like tech nobody could possibly need, and that's exactly why it delights me. We've poured billions into networks that can move information across the globe in a heartbeat. Then someone took a long look at all that engineering and asked, "What if it went by snail?" That is wonderfully absurd, and deeply human.
2. The joy of anticipation
I can remember waiting on letters in the mail. Waiting for a roll of film to be developed. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting all week for the next episode of a show, or for an album to come out. Plenty of that waiting was annoying, of course. Nostalgia tends to edit out the dull parts.
But looking forward to something gave life clear edges. You had the lead-up, then the moment itself, then the afterglow. These days those stages blur together. I hear about a song and it's playing seconds later. I wonder where I've seen an actor before and I know the answer before the opening scene ends. A text arrives and some part of my brain insists I reply right now.
Convenience has taken a huge amount of friction out of daily life. I'm just no longer convinced every bit of that friction was worth losing.
3. Why slowing down feels right in midlife
This is where it gets interesting for me at this stage of life. Getting older has made me less sold on the idea that faster is always better. I don't want to rush through everything. Some things I'd like to savor more slowly, especially now that time already seems to be moving plenty fast on its own: meals, conversations, books, walks, weekends, the people I love.
Maybe what many of us are craving isn't slowness as a goal in itself. Maybe it's texture. Moments that feel distinct from each other, instead of one endless scroll.
4. The case for "good friction"
Designers talk about friction a lot. Anything that makes a task harder, slower or clunkier usually gets flagged for removal. I've come to believe some friction is actually good for us.
Walking to the store for the paper and chatting with a neighbor on the way. Picking out a birthday card instead of firing off a text, because choosing it keeps that person on your mind a little longer. Spending an hour on dinner when you could have food at the door in twenty minutes. Sending a make-believe pigeon, knowing that for once your message can't demand an instant reply.
None of these are better simply because they take longer. They shine when the extra time turns into part of the experience itself.
5. Technology that helps us feel time
I'm not asking for less technology. I'm asking for more thoughtful technology, the kind built by people who understand that being human was never about getting through life as efficiently as possible. Sometimes instant really is a miracle. Other times, the wait is half the fun.
So yes, I'm intrigued by the pigeon, and maybe the turtle. The snail could push my patience, but perhaps that's the whole idea. Good technology doesn't always have to save us time. Now and then it might hand a little of that time back to us.
What small wait would you happily welcome back? Tell me, I'd love to know. You can always email me at rebekah@mpowder.store.
Why Anticipation Makes Life Sweeter
How did waiting turn into the enemy?
Speed is one of the biggest promises technology ever made us. Quicker answers, quicker shipping, quicker replies, a shorter and shorter distance between wanting something and holding it. Most of the time I'm deeply thankful. I have zero interest in going back to dial-up internet or standing in line at the bank.
Still, I've become curious about what vanished along with all that waiting. We got rid of the hassle, yes. We also got rid of the pause in between, and some pretty good things used to happen in those in-between spaces.
1. Meet the messaging apps that slow you down
Clearly I'm not the only one thinking this way, because some people are going to real lengths to build the pause back in. Carrier Pidge is an app that delivers your note to a friend by virtual carrier pigeon. It doesn't land right away. It takes as long as a bird would need to fly the distance between you. Another app, Roost, lets you pick your messenger: a bird, a snail, a turtle and more.
I know this sounds like tech nobody could possibly need, and that's exactly why it delights me. We've poured billions into networks that can move information across the globe in a heartbeat. Then someone took a long look at all that engineering and asked, "What if it went by snail?" That is wonderfully absurd, and deeply human.
2. The joy of anticipation
I can remember waiting on letters in the mail. Waiting for a roll of film to be developed. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting all week for the next episode of a show, or for an album to come out. Plenty of that waiting was annoying, of course. Nostalgia tends to edit out the dull parts.
But looking forward to something gave life clear edges. You had the lead-up, then the moment itself, then the afterglow. These days those stages blur together. I hear about a song and it's playing seconds later. I wonder where I've seen an actor before and I know the answer before the opening scene ends. A text arrives and some part of my brain insists I reply right now.
Convenience has taken a huge amount of friction out of daily life. I'm just no longer convinced every bit of that friction was worth losing.
3. Why slowing down feels right in midlife
This is where it gets interesting for me at this stage of life. Getting older has made me less sold on the idea that faster is always better. I don't want to rush through everything. Some things I'd like to savor more slowly, especially now that time already seems to be moving plenty fast on its own: meals, conversations, books, walks, weekends, the people I love.
Maybe what many of us are craving isn't slowness as a goal in itself. Maybe it's texture. Moments that feel distinct from each other, instead of one endless scroll.
4. The case for "good friction"
Designers talk about friction a lot. Anything that makes a task harder, slower or clunkier usually gets flagged for removal. I've come to believe some friction is actually good for us.
Walking to the store for the paper and chatting with a neighbor on the way. Picking out a birthday card instead of firing off a text, because choosing it keeps that person on your mind a little longer. Spending an hour on dinner when you could have food at the door in twenty minutes. Sending a make-believe pigeon, knowing that for once your message can't demand an instant reply.
None of these are better simply because they take longer. They shine when the extra time turns into part of the experience itself.
5. Technology that helps us feel time
I'm not asking for less technology. I'm asking for more thoughtful technology, the kind built by people who understand that being human was never about getting through life as efficiently as possible. Sometimes instant really is a miracle. Other times, the wait is half the fun.
So yes, I'm intrigued by the pigeon, and maybe the turtle. The snail could push my patience, but perhaps that's the whole idea. Good technology doesn't always have to save us time. Now and then it might hand a little of that time back to us.
What small wait would you happily welcome back? Tell me, I'd love to know. You can always email me at rebekah@mpowder.store.