Everything seems to be constantly getting faster. Our computer processors improve from year to year. One can complete the research needed for a paper without even leaving the house, a task that previously could have taken hours laboring in the library.

Our lives are so much more convenient than before, and this innovation seems to never end. New technology emerges rapidly, and the devices we considered state-of-the-art can be defunct or outdated within a few months or years.

These benefits are wonderful; I greatly appreciate having the immense number of resources that make my school and personal lives easier. The convenience that comes with technology should not be ignored, and obviously has enriched the educational experience for today’s student.

Yet, in the midst of this grand innovation, I think we should attempt to rekindle something of great value: the art of process.

While we should be grateful for technological advancement and should embrace it, there’s occasionally a certain value in maintaining a process. Skipping over intermediary steps sometimes leads to the loss of a certain meaningfulness that once existed in a task.

One key example of the beauty of process is writing. Google Drive and Microsoft Word have made editing seamless. Yet, though the writing process is easier, these programs can take away the ability to torment with messy edits on a printed page and see all the effort necessary to reach a final product.

I think the best way to reconcile the benefits of technology while not losing the meaning of process is to force ourselves to not become entrenched in our comfort. We can forget the benefits of multiple drafts and just making slight corrections here and there, but we should embrace broad revisions.

There’s a reason a good number of Millennials find beauty in vinyl records, in 35mm and instant film cameras, in typewriters, and other devices that one traditionally would believe belong in museums. These items give us a sense of nostalgia, but in many cases, also embrace this idea of a process, though in different ways.

With a record, one usually listens to every song on the album, not simply favorite songs. Manual typewriters either lack or have minimal correction features, requiring a higher degree of precision and some accuracy in spelling and grammar. And film photography requires a higher degree of effort than digital; one must get the shot right on the first try.

Embrace the process; skipping over certain details in favor of efficiency sometimes has unintended consequences. Though it often requires more time and effort, this extra grind is usually valuable in itself.