How to Turn That Random Connection in Your Head Into Something That Actually Works (for the ENTPs)

 

By: Someone who has 47 half-finished projects and a notes app that looks like a conspiracy theorist’s whiteboard. Let me guess. You were in the shower. Or driving. Or trying to fall asleep at 1:47 AM. And suddenly your brain did that thing it always does. It connected two completely unrelated things. Like… fermentation and team dynamics at work. Or octopus intelligence and how to organize your email inbox. Or Victorian mourning jewelry and modern subscription boxes. And for a split second, it felt electric. Like you’d cracked some secret code the rest of the world is too boring to see. Then came the voice. “That’s stupid.” “That’s useless.” “You’ll never actually do anything with this.” If you’re an ENTP (or just have that kind of chaotic, pattern-seeking brain), this happens to you several times a day. The real question isn’t “Am I creative?”. You already know you are. The real question is: How do I turn this random connection into something useful without strangling the fun out of it? Sit down. I’m going to walk you through exactly how I’ve learned (the hard way) to do this. And no, I won’t tell you to “just make a spreadsheet.” Though… okay, maybe one spreadsheet. But a cool one. step 1: stop calling it “random.” it’s not. First thing: that connection wasn’t random. Your brain doesn’t work like a slot machine. It works like a hyperlinked web of everything you’ve ever read, felt, argued about, or half-remembered from a documentary you watched while scrolling your phone. When you connect beekeeping to customer retention, that’s not randomness. That’s lateral thinking. That’s your Ne (extraverted intuition, for the MBTI nerds) doing exactly what it evolved to do. So stop dismissing it. Say this out loud if you have to: “My brain just made a novel association. That’s literally what innovation is.” Now write it down. I don’t care if it’s on a napkin, your Notes app, or the back of a receipt. Capture it immediately. Because here’s the thing about us: we forget our best ideas faster than we forget people’s names at parties. And we’re great at names. step 2: Ask the “useful” question, but not the boring one. Most people hear “make it useful” and immediately think: profit. productivity. efficiency. monetize. And that’s fine if you want to build a business. But for an ENTP, that kind of pressure kills the idea before it breathes. You don’t need profitable. You need interesting enough to chase. So here’s my cheat code. Instead of asking “How can I make money from this?”, ask these three questions instead: Who would find this fascinating? (Not “who will buy it”, who would genuinely geek out over it?) What problem does this accidentally solve? (Even a small one. Even a weird one.) What’s the smallest, dumbest, easiest version of this I could try today? Let me give you an example. Last month, I was watching my cat knock a glass off the table for the third time. And I randomly connected that to user interface design. Specifically, how bad UI “invites” mistakes. The connection felt stupid. But I asked: who would find this fascinating? Probably other cat owners who work in UX. Smallest version? A single tweet with a photo of the glass on the floor and the caption: “My cat is a better usability tester than most software teams.” That tweet got saved over 2,000 times. Two people DM’d me asking if I’d ever spoken at their design meetup. One of them hired me for a consulting call. Useful? Yeah. Did it feel like work? No. It felt like playing. step 3: Kill the perfectionism before it kills the idea Here’s where most ENTPs (and our chaotic cousins) fall apart. We get the spark. We get excited. Then we imagine the finished version of the idea, the polished blog, the viral video, the startup with the pitch deck and the angel investor and the little logo that looks like a fox and a lightbulb combined. And because we can see the finish line so clearly, we also see all the work between here and there. And we go… “Ugh. Never mind.” Stop doing that. You don’t need a finished product. You need a prototype of a conversation. Think of your random connection as a rock you just picked up. Don’t try to carve a statue. Just show the rock to someone and say, “Hey, does this look weird to you too?” That’s it. That’s the secret. Turn your connection into a question for another person. Not a pitch. A question. Examples: · “I was thinking about how bees communicate the location of flowers through dance. What if meetings worked like that?” · “This is going to sound insane, but do you think Netflix recommendation algorithms could help people choose therapists?” · “Okay, hear me out: what if ‘decision fatigue’ isn’t real. What if it’s just bad prioritization dressed up in science words?” When you frame it as a question, three good things happen: You don’t have to be right. The other person feels invited instead of lectured. You get to keep playing—which is what you wanted anyway. step 4: Find the Step 4: Find the “tiny useful” before you chase the “big useful.” We ENTPs love big. Big ideas, big debates, big transformations. But big is heavy. And heavy things don’t get lifted by a brain that’s already jumped to three new ideas since breakfast. So shrink it. Ask yourself: What’s the smallest way this connection could help one person for five minutes? Not “solve global warming.” Not “disrupt the fitness industry.” Just: help one person, for five minutes. Here’s a personal example. I once connected improv comedy rules (like “yes, and”) to how to survive family arguments at Thanksgiving. That felt too silly for anything serious. But I asked the tiny-useful question: Could this help one person survive one conversation? I wrote a 300-word LinkedIn post. Just a list: “5 Improv Rules for Holiday Dinner.” It took 12 minutes. One person commented: “I used the ‘yes, and’ on my uncle today and he literally stopped arguing. Thank you.” That’s it. That’s useful. Did it change the world? No. Did it change that person’s world for five minutes? Yes. And that’s enough to make the connection worth following. Once you get comfortable with tiny useful, you’ll be shocked how often it scales without you trying. Because tiny useful things get shared. They get remembered. They turn into conversations. And conversations turn into opportunities. Step 5: Build a “maybe later” list—and trust it. One of the hardest things for a brain like yours is letting go of an idea before it’s “done.” But here’s the truth: you will have more connections than you will ever execute. That’s not a flaw. That’s your superpower. The trick isn’t to do all of them. The trick is to respect all of them without chasing all of them. Create a note called “Maybe Later” or “The Icebox” or “Crazy Stuff That Might Actually Work.” Every time you have a random connection that you can’t act on right now, put it in there. With one sentence. That’s it. Then close the note and go back to your life. Here’s the magic: when you revisit that list three months later, about 70% of the ideas will feel dumb. That’s fine. Delete them. But 30% will feel obvious. Like, “Oh, of course. I see exactly how that could work now.” That’s your brain subconsciously problem-solving in the background. You don’t have to force it. You just have to stop getting in its way. step 6: Use your Fe (yes, that one) to filter for actual value. If you know MBTI, you know ENTPs have third-slot Fe (extraverted feeling). That means we can care about people,a lot. But it’s not our automatic setting. Our automatic setting is “is this interesting?” not “is this helpful?” So when you’re trying to make a random connection useful, do a quick Fe check. Ask yourself: “If I shared this with a tired, busy, overwhelmed human being… would they feel helped or annoyed?” That’s it. That’s the whole filter. Because here’s the thing: a lot of our brilliant connections are brilliant to us. But to someone who just worked nine hours and needs to pack lunches and pick up a prescription, a 15-minute explanation of how slime mold navigation relates to public transit is not useful. It’s exhausting. But if you can translate that same idea into: “Hey, I read this weird thing. Slime molds find the most efficient paths without a brain. Made me think we overcomplicate city planning. Want me to send you the article?” —that’s useful. That’s respectful. That’s Fe done right. Usefulness isn’t about how clever the connection is. It’s about how easily someone else can use it. step 7: give yourself permission to be wrong (and pivot fast). Here’s a confession. Most of my random connections don’t go anywhere. I’d say maybe one out of every fifteen turns into something actually useful. The rest? They’re just mental gymnastics. Fun, but not fruitful. And that’s fine. The mistake isn’t having useless ideas. The mistake is clinging to them after you realize they’re useless. We ENTPs can get attached to our own cleverness. We’ll defend a bad idea for way too long just because we like the shape of it. Don’t do that. When you test your random connection and it flops. Say someone looks at you blankly, or your “tiny useful” experiment gets zero engagement. Just shrug and move on. Say: “Okay, that one was just for me. Next.” That’s not failure. That’s data. And data is useful all by itself. step 8: Make it physical or social, not just mental. Random connections live in your head. Useful things live in the world. So at some point, you have to move the idea from thinking to doing. And for us, the easiest bridge is usually social. Tell one person. Post one sentence on social media. Send a voice note to a friend who gets your brain. Draw a terrible diagram on a whiteboard. Build the ugliest prototype imaginable. Do not wait until the idea is polished. It will never be polished. Polished is for sensors and judgers. You are a chaos agent with a heart. Embrace the messy first draft. I once had a random connection between video game side quests and real-life productivity. You know, how side quests are often more fun than the main story? I thought: what if we treated our chores like side quests? That’s it. That was the whole idea. I didn’t write a book. I didn’t build an app. I made a stupid Canva graphic that said: “Side Quest: Dishes. Reward: One episode of your show.” And I posted it on Instagram Stories. Seven people messaged me saying they actually did their dishes. One friend printed it out and put it on her fridge. Useful? Yeah. Because it moved from my head into someone’s kitchen. step 9: don’t kill the joy. That’s the whole point. The biggest danger for an ENTP trying to be “useful” is that you’ll optimize the fun right out of your own brain. You’ll start asking “is this practical?” before you ask “is this delightful?” You’ll stop following the weird connections because they don’t seem productive. You’ll turn yourself into a boring person with good systems and zero spark. Don’t. The reason your random connections are valuable is because most people don’t make them. Most people stay in their lanes. They connect A to B. You connect A to Jupiter to a forgotten TikTok trend to a line from a poem you read in 2014. That’s not a bug. That’s the whole thing. So here’s my real advice: make the useful thing, yes. But only if making it feels like play. The moment it starts feeling like homework, stop. Put the idea back in the icebox. Go chase a different spark. You’ll come back to it later. Or you won’t. Either way, you’ll have had fun. And fun, for a brain like yours, is the most useful thing of all. step 10: the one-question test. Before you close this tab and forget everything I just said (because I know you’re already thinking about three other things), do this: Look at the random connection you had today. The one that made you click on this article in the first place. Ask yourself one question: “What’s the smallest, stupidest, most low-pressure way I could share this with one person before I go to sleep?” Then do that. Not tomorrow. Not when it’s perfect. Now. Or in the next hour. Send a text. Write a tweet. Leave a voice memo for yourself. Draw a squiggly line on a sticky note. That’s it. That’s how you turn a random connection into something useful. Not by forcing it. Not by monetizing it. Not by building a whole business plan. By treating it like the gift it is. And giving it just enough air to breathe. final thought (because i can’t resist one more connection): You know how in The Lord of the Rings, Gandalf says, “A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to”? Your random connections are like that. They’re not late. They’re not early. They arrive precisely when your brain needs something to play with. Trust that. Play with it. And then share it like the weird, wonderful, half-baked thing it is. Useful will follow. I promise. Now go text someone about that octopus thing. You know the one. The ENTP code by Welmer Rehorst - Why the debater mind is the most powerful force you’ll never understand Available now on amazon 👉https://www.amazon.com/ENTP-Code-Debater-Powerful-Understand-ebook/dp/B0G15RQJ94 More from the author - https://linktr.ee/welmerrehorst