Fascinating Fae – Season 2, Episode 4

“Intriguing Inge & the Silver Synchronistic Sign”

Edited Formal Transcript


Part 1 – Opening and Introductions


Host:
Welcome, everyone, to Fascinating Fae. Tonight, we’re traveling to Denmark to speak with Inge. How are things in Denmark this evening?

Inge:
I feel quite blessed tonight. I have just spent time with my daughter in the same street where I found my new apartment. It’s about fifteen minutes past eight here in Denmark.

Host:
That’s a lovely time to talk. I enjoy recording these conversations at night—it adds something special to them. If it’s all right with you, I’ll begin by introducing you to the Fascinating Fae format.

Inge:
Of course.

Host:
Thank you. Essentially, the purpose of this show is to collect remarkable stories from people who’ve had extraordinary experiences. I want to say that it’s brave of you to share your story publicly, and I truly appreciate your courage.

Every episode, at least one listener finds clarity and affirmation about their own unexplained experience after hearing from a guest. So, in many ways, you’re providing a public service.

The format is simple: I invite guests to go into as much detail as they’re comfortable with—to help us understand what made the experience important, what stood out, and why it felt special. You’re welcome to take your time. Many conversations last an hour or more.

When you finish sharing your story, I may ask a few questions, but they’ll always come from curiosity—never judgment. Fascinating Fae is a supportive space for people who’ve had unusual experiences. It can be isolating to have these encounters, but also exhilarating. My goal is to provide a place where people can describe them freely, with honesty and excitement.

Now that you understand the format, please begin by telling us your story—perhaps starting with the experience of the owl and your apartment.

Inge:
Thank you. Before I start, I’d like to introduce myself briefly. My name is Inge, I live in Denmark, and I’m 53 years old. I have three grown children and was divorced about seven years ago.

I consider myself a critical and skeptical person—optimistic, perhaps even realistic—but I’m not someone who accepts everything at face value. I tend to question what I see in the media and on television. My approach is to seek understanding before judgment.

My background is quite diverse. I’m a philosopher and a coach by profession, and earlier in life I trained as a nurse. Throughout all these stages, a constant thread has been my interest in philosophy—asking questions and exploring meaning.

Since childhood, I’ve been aware of subtle energies. As a child, I wasn’t frightened by them; it simply felt normal. Later, as a teenager and adult, I became more self-conscious about it. I could sense energy from people and environments very strongly. Sometimes I would have impressions or signs before events occurred.

For instance, before attending a social gathering, I might feel an inner sense of what was about to happen. It wasn’t imagination—it was intuition. But I often felt embarrassed by it and rarely shared it, fearing others would think I was overly sensitive or even unstable.

In adulthood, I married a kind man—the father of my children—but he wasn’t open to this side of life. I often heard, “You’re too sensitive,” and began to believe it. Some family members have faced mental health issues, so I was cautious about discussing anything that might sound unusual.

At times, I wondered if my perceptions were simply my imagination. My academic background in philosophy also made me aware of how the human mind seeks patterns. For example, when you buy a certain car, you suddenly see that model everywhere; or when you’re pregnant, you notice other pregnant women constantly.

So yes, the brain looks for patterns—but not everything is an illusion.


Part 2 – Inge’s Background and the Spiritual Turning Point


Inge:
In recent years, I reached a point in life where I faced uncertainty about which path to follow—whether to embrace the spiritual side of myself or suppress it. I had always moved between those two worlds, but never fully committed to either.

Professionally, I worked in environments led by pragmatic thinkers and scientists. Discussing intuition or energy there felt inappropriate. I often worried that speaking openly would make me appear irrational.

The last two years have been particularly difficult. My eldest son became seriously ill, my father passed away, and my relationship ended. I felt as if I had to start my life over again from the beginning.

To regain balance, I turned to meditation and yoga. Eventually, I spent a month living in an ashram in India. That experience was deeply transformative, and it was actually my son—who had changed his own life dramatically after his illness—who inspired me to go.

Now, at 53, I feel called to accept my experiences rather than suppress them. I want to use what I’ve learned for something good—to share with others that life holds much more than what we can see or measure.

When we reject what we cannot physically prove, we limit ourselves to a one-dimensional existence. But if we can look beyond the physical, life becomes richer and more meaningful.

This brings me to the story I want to share with you.

I live in Copenhagen, but I’ve been uncertain about whether to stay there. My elderly mother lives in Jutland, and my children are grown and living elsewhere. I felt torn—unsure where I belonged or where to make my next home.

So I began looking for apartments in different cities.

A few days ago, while browsing Facebook, an unusual message appeared on my screen. It showed a silver owl and read: “Look for this silver owl. It is a sign. A wish will come true for you.”

It was so peculiar that I took a screenshot. I had no idea where it came from—perhaps a random community post or something shared by an acquaintance—but it stood out.

Later, while visiting an apartment I was considering, I felt an immediate sense of peace. The space was bright and filled with natural light. I could see the horizon from the window and feel calmness in the air.

I stepped onto the small balcony to breathe in the atmosphere—and then I saw it.

On a nearby balcony, just one level below, was a silver owl figurine.

For a moment, I was stunned. I had completely forgotten about the message from Facebook. In Denmark, it’s uncommon to see such an ornament—certainly not a silver owl. And yet there it was, right in front of me.

At that moment, I remembered the message: “Look for the silver owl.” It felt as though the universe had spoken directly to me.

The building’s address was Number 4, and I realized that the number four holds strong symbolism for stability and transformation—the four directions, the four elements, the four corners of the world. That symbolism resonated deeply.

I later discovered that my great-grandfather had once lived on the same street. My daughter, coincidentally, now lives there too. I hadn’t planned to move near her, yet here it was—this strange alignment of place and family.

Even the name of the street carried meaning. It was named after a generous man who never married and devoted his fortune to improving the lives of young women. The sense of purpose in his story added another layer of significance.

All of these connections made the apartment feel right—as if the pieces of my life were forming a coherent picture.

It felt as though my past, present, and future had aligned in this one moment. I could rationalize it as coincidence, but in my heart it felt far more meaningful.

After years of turmoil—losing loved ones, enduring heartbreak, and searching for direction—I suddenly felt peace.

This experience, and others like it, have convinced me that there is more to life than what we can see. Signs exist. They speak to us when we are ready to listen.

Many people fear or dismiss what cannot be measured, but there is another kind of reality beyond the physical one. And when you begin to sense it, life becomes multidimensional, not confined to ordinary perception.