The word “I” is used to describe a subject, something I identify with 100%. And when we identify with/as a separate self, it appears as a subject… as an “I”.

That is the main reason why I sometimes use the term “separate I”… it is a little closer to our experience.

And it invites a shift from seeing it as a first person “I” to a third person he/she/it, or even me or mine (both, really.)

I’ll respond to your two first paragraphs first (and then the rest as I have time read it more in detail and see what comes up.)

I use the terms “sense of separate self” (as they typically do in English language Buddhism) and “separate I” interchangeably.

So even without a sense of a separate self/I, there is still an “I” there - although a “transcendent” I… An I without an Other.

I will happily follow along with ego killing. Murder the bastard, hooray! But “I” killing seems to me to be a denial of the as-important mystery of consciousness, which appears to be impossible to explain in terms of ’stuff.’

“I” is a translator and, quite literally, a point of view. I do see it as my job to try to turn off the shields that cause me to react defensively to perceived attacks from others. But some of my defenses are strong and seem very much out of my control. I am defended against death and suffering. There are reactions outside my awareness to preserve my life and well being.

My perceptions are at best significantly different than the seeming reality that’s out there. [There is nothing truly green coming at me from my perception of seeing a tree.]

I understand emptiness [I think, sort of], but until my being’s role as a translator of seeming reality is better explained, I don’t see how there is no “I.”

Mystical experiences are blissful glimpses, but I remain leary of attempts to fashion maps of meaning to them. The God imbued believe they have touched the face of the Lord and are likely to feel that their beliefs going in have been confirmed.

If we are open such that we approach things with no preconceptions, is that *better*? How did that rule come into being?

And if emptiness is dancing, why is it doing that? What are all those kazillions of stars all about?

Everything is all quite spectacularly impossible, you know. And yet, here we are — aren’t we?