Cell Memory, Organ Transplants and my selfish realization

The concept of cell memory has turned my life upside down. I've read about this before, but somehow an element unconsidered has since emerged. There is no rough proof that any of it is true, but there have been studies that show recipients of organ donations have experienced changes which related directly to the lifestyles and happenings of the donors.

In one instance a heart transplant recipient reported vivid nightmares about a girl being murdered, only to discover her donor was a 10 year old girl who was murdered. Another heart transplant recipient who had hated classical music found an intense love for it, yep, he received a heart from a young violin player who adored it. There are a handful of these tales reported. Here's one of many websites if you will...

Fish out of water - source

If all of this is plausible, what does it even mean? Do parts of our soul attach to our bodies as we inhabit them? This idea is purely foreign to me. I've meandered through life as a fish out of water and subscribed to the idea that I am not my body, I'm separate from it. It's a nuisance. A shell that mocks my identity and chills my ghost.

So, these heart warming stories, they are, when told naturally, cell memory aside, have managed to inspire some notion of unity! It makes me think maybe its really my ego that hates this shell. Maybe my soul is currently attached to it and my cells drink up its' memories and thoughts like water and blood. It sounds outlandish, but now I almost want to receive an organ transplant so I can donate myself to research. (Knock on wood)

If you have a story about cell memory, we'd love to hear it! Please know you can share anonymously on odd numbered life, you're story will be reviewed and shared.