I understand Peanut. I tend to feel that way about my own phone these days, lighting up with tweets and package alerts and push notifications about our latest form of existential doom. And yet, I’m not as wise (and definitely not as cute) as Peanut, because I’m still of two minds about social media. Early on, I decided I was far too reticent and dreamy to even pretend to be good at it (and this Bartleby-like choice won me no points in my former workplace). Initially, it bored me a little, the dust-ups on Twitter, all heat and no light, and it often embarrassed me, too, the way people would hang it all out to dry. These days, I enjoy it sporadically, catching glimpses of far-flung friends in places I used to live. By keeping my account private and tightly curated — I only follow people I actually know and like — I’ve been able to minimize my exposure to selfies, cocktails at sunset, fisherman knit cashmere, or the kind of posts that seem to whisper softly, in a distinctly Gwyneth-esque tone, “nya-nya-nya-nya-nya-nya.”

Congratulations for recognizing what isn’t working for you: the evanescent satisfaction and dopamine release that accompany an approving “like” in response to a painting you’ve shared — a painting no doubt many, many hours in labor and conception. How could that feel, to an artist just starting out in his or her career, in any way adequate? It has become a thing for some to use Instagram as a kind of CV, and there are stories of those who have found gallery representation on the basis of their feeds. At the end of the day, though, I suspect that by recusing yourself from social media, what you’re mostly missing out on is the illusion of community, rather than an actual, supportive, real-life one, which you’ve already taken steps to build. Let’s face it: Social media is better at fostering solipsism than it is at inspiring or showcasing creative work. And for those of us trying to listen to our more subtle selves, who are perhaps unduly sensitive to the neuroses and agendas of others, the pursuit of fleeting approbation can become a real distraction, thwarting those tender shoots of new ideas.