What Each Enneagram Type Would Do with a Time Machine

Let’s say we hand each Enneagram type a time machine. Not the clunky DeLorean kind (though cool), and not the hot tub variety (we’re not animals). This is a sleek, portable, morally ambiguous kind of time machine. One button. No instructions. A ticking sound that may or may not mean anything.

The question is: what do you do with it?

Let’s find out.

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Enneagram 1 – The Reformer

Mission: Fix all the broken things. Everywhere. Always.

If you give a One a time machine, they’ll first ask if it’s ethically sourced. Then they’ll check if it’s up to code. Then they’ll use it to go back and stop the biggest injustices in history—like, all of them. Slavery? Fighting it and providing historical texts to warn people of what will happen if they don’t change their views. Environmental destruction? Fighting it with research from scientists of the future. That time in eighth grade when they used the wrong form of “your” in a love letter? Corrected.

But here’s the thing: Ones aren’t just trying to fix the past. They’re trying to fix themselves too. The internal critic that already nags them about not flossing enough would now have access to the entire timeline. That’s a recipe for burnout and existential whiplash.

Eventually, they’d realize that chasing the perfect timeline is a fast track to madness. They’d come back, toss the time machine in a lake, and focus on being simply and perfectly in the present.

Enneagram 2 – The Helper

Mission: Comfort the brokenhearted, support the changemakers, and make history 37% more emotionally regulated.

If you give a Two a time machine, they won’t use it for themselves. They won’t go back and fix that time they called their teacher “Mom” in the third grade. They won’t even go back to prevent their own heartbreak.

Nope. They’ll use it to help you heal from yours.

At first, it’s small stuff. They go back in time to make sure someone has a coat before the snowstorm hits. They slide a casserole onto the doorstep of a historical figure who’s just been publicly humiliated (what? Everyone heals faster with carbs). They leave affirming Post-it notes on the desks of world leaders who are about to crumble under the pressure. Honestly, they’re like emotional Mary Poppins meets Doctor Who.

But then they start thinking bigger.

They land in Montgomery, Alabama, 1955, right as the Civil Rights Movement is gathering momentum. Rosa Parks has made her stand (or sit, technically), and people are organizing, resisting, hurting. The movement is growing—but so is the backlash. It’s heavy. It’s exhausting. And people are running on fumes.

So the Two does what Twos do.

They don’t try to take the spotlight. They don’t hijack the cause. They just help.

They bring futuristic medicine to soothe aching joints and feet worn raw by miles of protest walks. Portable solar lanterns for late-night strategy sessions. Quiet, sturdy support for organizers burning out behind the scenes. They help people remember to eat. To rest. To breathe.

They sit with mothers afraid for their children. They hug teenagers too brave for their age. They write encouragement letters that somehow sound like exactly what someone needed to hear—because that’s the Two superpower: emotional clairvoyance.

They don’t fix everything. They know they can’t. But they hold people up while they do the impossible. They make sure the people changing history have enough strength to keep going.

Enneagram 3 – The Achiever

Mission: Win time travel. Beat history. Build legacy. Help humanity (and maybe look good doing it).

Threes would see the time machine not just as a tool—but as a launchpad. First, they’d go back and invest in Apple, Amazon, and whichever Renaissance artist looked like they needed a patron. Then they’d use future knowledge to publish bestselling books, deliver TED Talks, and build a motivational empire: “Time Hack Your Life: The 3 Secrets to Unlimited Success.” There would be merch. There would be a Netflix documentary. There would be an app that sends you daily affirmations from your favorite historical figure.

But eventually, the shine wears off. The applause fades. And Threes—being secretly tender underneath all that drive—start asking deeper questions.

What if I used this power for something more than just visibility?
What if my worth wasn’t about looking valuable—but being valuable?

And so, they pivot.

They start using the time machine to intervene at crucial turning points in history—not to steal credit, but to give it back. They coach leaders to act with integrity before corruption sets in. They stop catastrophic PR disasters that derail social justice movements. They help society’s most brilliant change-makers find their confidence, their audience, and their momentum before the world talks them out of it.

Eventually, the Three stops chasing fame and starts chasing impact. Quiet, lasting impact. The kind that ripples through history without needing a name attached.

Enneagram 4 – The Individualist

Mission: Feel everything. Find meaning. Transform pain into beauty that heals more than just themselves.

Fours would travel back to witness the birth of art movements, the heartbreak behind symphonies, the brushstroke that changed someone’s entire life. They’d show up to quiet tragedies and sit with people in their grief—not to fix it, but to honor it. To say, “I see you. Even here.”

Time travel, for a Four, wouldn’t be about tweaking timelines. It would be about honoring them. They’d gather fragments of humanity’s sorrow and joy like stained glass—aching to turn it into something that says, “Your pain means something.”

But here’s where it shifts.

One day, in some war-torn future or silenced past, they’d look into someone’s eyes and realize: it’s not enough to witness pain. Not if you have the power to help reshape it.

So they start doing more.

They create sanctuaries for displaced artists. They build traveling story-collecting booths where the unheard can finally speak. They use the time machine to gather lost songs, banned books, buried lullabies—and share them across generations to remind people: you are not alone.

Their past missions become love letters to forgotten voices. Their future ones? Seeds of resilience and self-expression in places that need it most.

Enneagram 5 – The Investigator

Mission: Understand everything. Archive it. Build a bunker. Probably avoid people.

Fives wouldn’t even use the time machine right away. They’d first research it. For weeks. Possibly months. They’d build a spreadsheet comparing every time travel paradox ever recorded in science fiction. They’d weigh the risks. They’d calculate timelines. They’d make their peace with causality.

And then?

They’d start visiting ancient libraries, forgotten laboratories, and long-lost civilizations. The goal wouldn’t be to change history—it would be to understand it.

Fives are wired to conserve energy, and time travel is exhausting. People from every era want to talk. Which is… unfortunate. Eventually, even the most reserved Five would realize that the pursuit of knowledge without connection is like building a tower with no doors.

The moment they invite someone into their time-traveling lab bunker? That’s the real plot twist.

Enneagram 6 – The Loyalist

Mission: Anticipate disaster. Prevent collapse. Protect the people no one else noticed until it was too late.

If you give a Six a time machine, the first thing they’ll do is make sure it’s not a trap. They’ll run a background check on whoever handed it to them. They’ll text three friends to see if this seems sketchy. They’ll Google “what happens if you use a time machine wrong and break the fabric of reality.”

Once they’re convinced it’s real—and that they’re not about to accidentally create a butterfly effect that causes global war—they’ll use it to do something monumental:

They’ll go back and stop a crisis.

Not a flashy one. Not the one already in every history book. The one no one noticed until it was too late.

They’ll show up in the weeks before a dam breaks. Before the economic collapse. Before the supply chain failures, the genocide, the school shooting, the outbreak. They’ll find the blind spots—the systems that were quietly corroding while everyone else was busy chasing shiny things.

And they won’t just sound the alarm. They’ll build the sandbags. They’ll train the locals. They’ll whisper the truth to leaders too proud to ask for help.

Because here’s what people don’t always understand about Sixes:

They’re not just anxious.

They’re brave.

They’re the ones who stay when things fall apart. Who hold the line. Who read the terms and conditions while the rest of us are clicking “Accept.”

Eventually, their time-traveling mission becomes a kind of global resilience project. They create early-warning systems. Underground communities. A trauma-informed network of first responders trained to act before the breaking point.

And yes—along the way, they have doubts. They worry they’ve made things worse. That they missed something. That they don’t know enough.

But then someone survives. Because of them.

And another person. And another.

And they realize: courage isn’t about being sure. It’s about showing up anyway.

Enneagram 7 – The Enthusiast

Mission: Experience everything. Escape pain. Spread light. And maybe—just maybe—save the world with joy.

Sevens get the time machine and immediately lose their minds in the best way. No hesitation. No questions asked. Just go.

First stop: the roaring ’20s for jazz and champagne. Then medieval festivals (only the fun parts). Then the moon landing, because why not. Then a brief stint in the future, just to try out floating sushi restaurants, hyperloop travel, and see if they ever get that flying skateboard they dreamed about in 3rd grade.

For a while, it’s pure bliss. Every era has something new to try, someone new to meet, something delicious or weird or dazzling to consume. Sevens are wired to chase wonder like it’s oxygen, and time travel? It’s a playground with no closing time.

But eventually—even in the future—there are shadows.

Famine. Loss. Loneliness. Regret.

And that’s when the Seven’s real mission begins.

Because this type, for all their sparkle and banter, knows darkness intimately. They just hide it better than most. When they do confront it, though? They have something powerful the rest of us forget in our seriousness:

Hope.

So they pivot. Mid-flight, mid-century.

They start going back to moments in history where hope was about to die out. Not to deliver speeches. Not to fix everything. But to infuse joy where it was almost extinct.

They sneak into war zones with music. They slip future medicine to plague doctors. They teach children in bomb shelters how to laugh again. They bring color to grayscale places.

And maybe, most heroically of all, they begin to sit with people in pain—without trying to skip past it. They learn that not every wound needs a distraction. Some just need a witness who hasn’t lost their sense of wonder.

Eventually, they bring all those experiences back with them: the flavors, the stories, the aliveness. They write books, open cafés that double as grief circles, start schools that teach kids emotional resilience through play.

Because they’ve seen it now: Joy isn’t the opposite of pain. It’s what makes surviving it worthwhile.

Enneagram 8 – The Challenger

Mission: Change the course of history. On purpose. With force. Possibly by punching a tyrant.

Eights don’t mess around. The moment they get that time machine, they’re already in Ancient Rome, saving someone, starting a rebellion, or throwing hands with a dictator.

To an Eight, time travel is a weapon for justice. A tool for empowerment. A way to protect the underdog—especially the underdog they once were.

But let’s be honest. The line between justice and control can get blurry. Especially for Eights who’ve been hurt before. Their default setting is “never again,” and that can lead to overcorrection. Controlling timelines. Silencing opposition. Taking over a little too much.

Eventually, an Eight has to reckon with their own vulnerability. To realize that true strength isn’t about domination—it’s about integration. Trust. Letting someone else steer the time machine for a change.

And when they do? That’s when the world shifts—because a softened Eight is one of the most powerful forces in the universe.

Enneagram 9 – The Peacemaker

Mission: Keep humanity from imploding—gently, empathetically, and ideally without anyone raising their voice.

When a Nine gets a time machine, they do what Nines do best: they take a nap first.

Not because they’re lazy. Because they need time to feel it out. Rushing into history with unchecked energy is how you get world wars and regrettable mustaches. Nines know better.

So they wait. They listen. They pet a cat. Then they go.

But here’s the thing—they don’t go to the obvious moments. Not the bombs dropping or the treaties signing. No, Nines show up in those invisible, precarious moments. The day before the shouting starts. The pause before the punchline becomes a punch.

Let’s say they land in Sarajevo, 1914—right before the assassination that kicked off World War I. They’re not there to shove anyone out of the way or tackle the archduke’s driver. That’s not their style.

Instead, they make tea.

They chat up the locals. The ones stewing in quiet resentment and unspoken trauma. The ones nobody else is listening to because everyone’s too busy being RIGHT. They slip into tense rooms like a breeze under the door and suddenly—somehow—everyone’s breathing easier.

And sure, they may casually mention what a global war would look like. Not in a scary way. More in a, “You know, bullets are loud and limbs are important and have you seen what mustard gas does?” kind of way. They show photos. Tell stories. Make it real. Not to terrify—just to re-humanize.

Because Nines? They don’t just keep the peace. They restore it.

They bring something the angry people forgot how to access: imagination. Curiosity. The gentle nudge that says, “Maybe there’s another way.” And somehow, without anyone realizing it, the vibe shifts. Conflict cools. Someone cracks a smile. The sharp edges start to round out.

By the time they leave, they haven’t “won.” They haven’t “solved” anything. But the powder keg? It’s just a dusty old barrel again.

And back in the present, they return a little tired, a little proud, and maybe carrying a stray dog from 1914 who just seemed emotionally fragile.

What About You?

So, what would you do with a time machine?

Would you fix, help, win, feel, understand, prepare, play, fight, or blend?

The truth is—we all might do a little of each. The Enneagram doesn’t box us in. It just shows us where we start—and where we’re scared to go.

But the time machine? It’s not just a metaphor. It’s real. You’re in it right now. Every minute you’re breathing, every second you’re choosing. This is your timeline.

And the future?

Still unwritten.