These inexplicable things don’t have to be scary, but we’re definitely left with a strong sense that something out of the norm just happened.
People on Quora where asked, “What’s the most inexplicable experience you’ve ever had?” Below are ten of the best answers.
Feel free to share your own inexplicable experiences in the comments below.
I had a dream when I was seven, right after my mother was sentenced to seven years in Türkiye’s maximum security prison for women, in Ankara, Türkiye. In the dream I saw myself going into a prison also, but as an adult. Yet the prison was nothing like the ones in Türkiye. It was modern, clean, and made up a bunch of different races of men.
Call it whatever you want, but I remember every detail of that dream, and dwelled on it for most of my life. Not obsessively, but enough to cause the nightmares I had about going to prison at all.
It was my biggest fear.
When I got to prison, I thought about the scene that I had relived throughout my life, and couldn’t ever match it up to a similar scene in prison. I was looking for visual confirmation through an identical match.
When confirmation came, I was stunned and shocked to the core. The scene was identical, and something much more powerful and permanent than just Deja Vú.
If you believe in anything supernatural you have to believe in all things supernatural. That truth has been hard for me to refute since 2003.
My friend Gerard Senehi is a world class mentalist. He has performed for people such as Prince Charles and Billy Joel, and has been on TV programs such as Ellen and late night shows.
His experiments in moving objects without touching them, psychically reading peoples’ minds, and making objects appear and disappear are mind blowing. I have been with him when he has livened up parties by making cigarettes float in the air, or at restaurants when the restaurant staff was dull and Gerard would ask the waitstaff to watch as he moved chopsticks around the table without touching them.He bends spoons, puts knots in wine glasses, and that’s just the beginning.
I have seen people get really freaked out by the way he reads minds. Several of his acts involve having someone in the audience write down a word and he finds a way to guess that same word through a series of drawing pictures He is famous for making predictions weeks before a show, and then proving each one right on the night of the show which may include guessing that someone in the audience would be wearing a particular color suit, or something to that nature. I cannot convey how thrilling his shows are.
So the most inexplicable experience I’ve had involved Gerard.
Now one of the things about mentalists and people who do these kind of shows for a living is that everyone is always wondering whether everything they do is just a trick and can be explained. I have heard everything about Gerard from it’s all a trick, to the fact that he really is psychic and can read minds. I never made up my mind about that as I suppose, I always wanted to believe that there was some element of mystery there.
And then, I had this real life experience.
One day I was coming home from work on the T (Boston’s subway), and as I entered a long ascending escalator, Gerard came into my mind. I had no reason to be thinking of him but he interrupted the mindstream of whatever I had been thinking about at the time.
I began climbing the escalator slowly and as I got about half way up, Gerard was standing on the escalator backwards, facing me with a huge smile on his face.
When I saw him, my heart nearly stopped. It was extremely eerie. I said, “Oh my God. I was just thinking about you 2 seconds ago.” He just smiled.
In 2007, I was at university, taking on more than a full course load, waiting tables, doing volunteer work, and generally exhausting myself to death.
It was a Friday in March: I’d pulled an all-nighter the night before, and after finishing my afternoon classes, I decided to lay down for a quick rest before my shift at work.
As I was laying there with my eyes closed, this vision flashed up behind my eyelids of a person hanging, and then someone lifting them up. It startled me to the point that I sat up out of bed, giving up on the idea of sleep and deciding to get ready for work.
A couple hours later, I was waiting tables when a man came in the restaurant to see me.
I had never seen this man before, and when he walked in the front door of the restaurant, there was no indication that he was there for me. Yet somehow, instinctively, this uncomfortable feeling started twisting around in my gut. As he spoke to my manager, a feeling of dread passed over me. How did I know they were talking about me? I couldn’t hear them. They weren’t looking at me.
My manager sent me to talk to this unsettling stranger, and he gave me the news.
My younger brother was dead.
Before the man even explained how he had died, I knew: he had hanged himself.
It had happened at the approximate time that I had that vision.
I’ve never been able to fully make sense of it, but along with other experiences in my life, I think it lends itself to the suggestion that we – as humans, as living beings, as parts of the universe – are far more deeply connected than we observe in normal circumstances.
I was visiting my grandparents. There is this restaurant we frequented. It had amazing and cheap chinese food. My cousin and I used to bike up there. I loved it.
One fine evening, my cousin suggested that we bike up there. I was free and bored. I agreed. An hour before we were to leave, my grandmother who had never had any problem with us biking or the restaurant begged us not to go. I wanted to know why. She said she had a bad feeling. I checked the news. There was nothing wrong with the town.
And moreover, they lived in a quiet and boring suburb where nothing interesting ever happened. No crime, no riots, no demonstrations, no threat to security. However she was adamant that we do not leave the house. And this was very unlike her.
So we grudgingly complied. We were supposed to be sitting there at around 8pm. Instead we were at home when it happened. In the exact same restaurant.
There was a gas explosion. Several people died. The place burned down.
I don’t know what it was that gave my grandmother the ‘bad feeling’. But she saved our lives.
This took place in the fall of 2006, near the end of the rainy season in Seoul, South Korea.
In my house we had a very old Japanese kokeshi doll:
This is just a picture I found online, but ours looked exactly the same. I avoided having eye contact with it when I was little because it scared me. By the time I was in high school my room became a storage-space for odds and ends from around the house. Including this doll.During the fall I would sleep with my window open about two fingers wide. It was wide enough to let in a pleasant breeze and small enough to prevent my cat from escaping. It led to gentle sleep.
Have you ever had the ‘falling dream’? The one where you feel like you are falling endlessly and then suddenly– WHUMP. You collide with the ground and wake up at that exact moment. Usually with a jerk.
I had that dream, twitched, and was wide awake in a split second. I could see my room, dimly lit by the street lamp outside. The wind had picked up during the night and rain was falling in thick, audible drops. My cat was looking at something floating near my open window.
It was the Kokeshi doll, and it was watching me. I felt panic bubbling inside me but couldn’t move, like I was locked in place. My entire body was tense, waiting. Suddenly the doll whipped/rolled its head around like a gyroscope, and flew out through the gap in the window.
The next morning my mom was chatting as she made breakfast.
“Did you know they had a terrible typhoon in Japan last night?” 
“It was really bad– there was a lot of flooding and many people died.”
I went back to my room and looked for the doll. It wasn’t there. I asked my mom about it and she said she didn’t know where it was. I looked everywhere.
As one of the nerd crowd I was isolated much of my teen years. When I was 18, I was invited to a graduation party by one of the popular guys. We’re talking friendly jock type, not anything with Carrie like implications. We’d been almost friends for a while, certainly friendly, I was honored and accepted. His friends, however, were not so nice. They laughed, made rude comments about me, and about how my presence would ruin the party, they threw things.
I left, but left with such determined action that my friend chased after me. As I got in my car to leave, he asked if I was okay. I lied, I said I was. I was tired of it all, fed up, between home and school, I was done, the camel’s back was broken…. I drove up the mountain late at night with the clear intention of driving off of it at a very high rate of speed, maybe even set a personal record before I went airborne. I was so far over the edge nothing in the world could have stopped me, or so I thought.
I found the spot I wanted, I knew that mountain like the back of my hand, every turn and twist. Long, straight, and a sharp drop off if I didn’t make the turn at the end. I came around the preceeding turn and stomped on the gas. The engine roar filled the air….
Then he was there, in my lights, a man with a broken arm in a cast waving for help at the side of the road ahead. It took every effort to stop the car, wheels sliding on the unpaved road, dirt flying, rocks crunching under the tires. He showed no body language that anything odd had just happened, either from the beginning of the high acceleration or the sudden deceleration. He waited for the dust to clear and me to roll down the window before approaching. His car had broken down a mile ahead, his wife was pregnant and he just needed a ride for them back into town or to someone who could fix their truck.
I drove him to pick up his wife, but I know nothing about vehicles to help, so I drove them both down the mountain. He didn’t talk, he just watched me as if I was the most interesting person in the world. It wasn’t creepy, it wasn’t a puzzled expression. As we neared the foot of the mountain overlooking the town, the last clearing before heading out of the wilderness area, there in the moonlight at the side of the road was a Forest Ranger’s vehicle that had not been there when I came up earlier. The man asked me to pull over, maybe he could help them fix the car. They go out to talk to the ranger. After a short exchange they all smiled at me and said that he could take them back and fix the vehicle without any problems. I was glad they found someone to help and I had helped do my part. It was a good feeling.
Suddenly they turned to me as if sensing the change in my own thoughts and asked, “Will you be okay?” The unexpected question struck me hard and fast. It was too close to what Richard had asked me earlier as I left the party, when I lied and said I was. I didn’t lie to them, I was okay this time, I was feeling pretty good. They got in the ranger vehicle and I drove off.
I headed back into town, down the last hill to home, no longer in any danger of driving off a cliff by anything other than a true accident. But before I left that last clearing, I glanced into my rear-view mirror… and no one was there. No vehicle, no dust cloud from a vehicle driving off, the moon lit the clearing all the way back to the tree line, nothing…. no one. To leave the clearing that fast they would have had to kick up a lot of dust, but there was nothing. I headed back into town still wondering what in the world just happened to me…
My mom had a really bad car crash when I was about eight. It was so bad that her face was crushed. My dad, sis as well as myself were with mom but she was hurt the most.
I was taken home by my grandmom that fateful night.
In the middle of the night an elderly gentleman came home. He was dressed in all white and he came to my room and sat beside my bed. He told me that my mom would be okay and that I should not worry. I wanted to talk more but when I tried getting up I woke up from the dream I was having. My grandma came to me asking who was I speaking with. I told her about the elderly gentleman in white. She became quite emotional as I was describing my grandfather’s features and he always dressed in white. He had died 25 years before I was born.
My mom survived the accident after battling for five nights and my father says that for those five nights I was very calm and told him multiple times that mom would be okay as the elderly gentleman had said so.
When I was a teenager, I was living abroad, near Brussels. I had been feeling very down and depressed because of certain personal issues and was not sure what to do.
One day I was standing on a train platform awaiting the train home. I am not entirely sure now, but I think a part of me was thinking about just jumping on the tracks as soon as I saw the train approach. The platform was rather crowded, but I was near the front of the crowd.
As I was lost in these morbid thoughts, a man came up to me, grabbed my shoulders, kissed me full on the mouth, hugged me and walked away without a word. I had never seen this man before in my life, and when I turned to look for him, he seemed to have vanished completely. I began, however, to smile and feel some kind of love from this stranger. I did not jump in front of the train that evening. I don’t know who that person was, or even if he was real, or just a creep, but in some inexplicable way, he may have saved my life.
This happened to me when I was about two years old, not long after my father’s mother had passed away, whom he was very close with. It is something that has always stuck with me and I believe I will never forget it.
One night my family and I were at our beach house, and in the middle of the night I climbed into my parents bed, unable to sleep, crawling in beside my dad. I remember for some reason looking over to the walk-in wardrobe and from out of nowhere came an incredibly bright shining ball of light.
I watched as it moved slowly towards us and it stopped above my dad, just hovering there. I had the overwhelming feeling that this orb of light was my grandmother coming to say goodbye to him. After a few moments it was gone and I immediately woke my parents up to tell them.
Now, 16 years later what strikes me as odd is the fact I can retain this memory from such a young age, I don’t even know if at the time I really understood my grandmothers death.
I’ve never thought too much about it, but writing about it now makes me realise how incredible it really was- I’ll never know for certain if it was a dream or not, but I will never forget it.
Four years ago my husband of 33 years died. I felt as if my life had blown apart.
Three weeks after his death, while I was asleep, I experienced his presence so vividly it was like a visit. It was as if he just came to hang out with me for a while. While overjoyed to be with him, I was confused. I reminded him he was dead and asked if he should really be there. He left and I woke up, happy for the first time since he had died. I had been with him again!
A couple of months later he “came to me” again while I was asleep. This time I enjoyed his presence but told him firmly that he shouldn’t be there- he was dead. He left but I awoke ecstatically happy.
During the third “visit” 8 months after his death, he began joking with me. We were both laughing. Then I said, “You are awfully LIVELY for a dead man!” I woke up joyous but with a nagging feeling that he was trying to get across something that I had not understood.
Three days later it hit me like a bolt of lightning. He was trying to tell me that my understanding of death was all wrong. His spirit is as alive as mine – it just is no longer attached to a body.
Since this last “visit” I see my life here on earth as a temporary journey, part of something much larger. I miss my husband, but no longer grieve him. And my own death does not seem scary.