Phil,
I've been too busy to respond until now, but what you wrote helps explain the Flora Courtois story and the other guy I referred to who lived in an "enlightened" state of mind for many years. In both cases, there was an emptying out, and a return to a childlike state of mind, but in neither case did mind get informed concerning WHO/WHAT was seeing. In both cases the sense of a separate self (though freed of reflective thought for a long while) continued, and later re-surfaced.
In my own case (and I'm not sure how best to use words to describe this) the structure of thought/belief supporting a sense of separateness disappeared following an emotional experience, but it then took more than two hours for mind to realize what had disappeared. It was only when the absence was seen, did mind realize that if there was no separate self, as previously believed (at a deep--subconscious?--level), then the witness to everything had to be the process of reality itself--"what is." Nothing was gained, but something was definitely lost (the unconscious/subconscious belief in separateness).
As I mentioned in another post, the day following my mother's death last month, there was an emotional release. Subsequently, I wrote her eulogy and tried to point to the fact that she hadn't gone anywhere. I tried to do this in such a way that the cosmic point could be made without offending traditional Christians who would be at the funeral. I do not know whether it was the emotional release or the effort to construct the eulogy, but afterwards, I found that I understood some old Zen stories about the same issue that had always seemed obscure. One of those stories is particularly interesting, but I gave away the book containing it. I've ordered a copy, and after it arrives, I'll quote the section of interest.
I rarely contemplate koans anymore, but occasionally some old unanswered koans will arise and be seen through. It's always a surprise when this happens. The first koan in more than a decade that captured my interest was one that I recently read in "The Zen Teachings of Huang Po." Apparently, Huang Po (600 AD?), was talking to Nan Chuan (incorrect spelling, but I don't have the book with me). Nan Chuan, a deeply-enlightened master, asked Huang Po where he was going. Huang Po said, "To cut some vegetables." Nan Chuan then asked, "What will you cut them with?" HP silently held up a knife. Nan Chuan replied, "Well, that's okay for a guest, but not for a host." HP realized the depth of this comment, and the inadequacy of his reply, and he did three prostration bows to show his respect.
This story stunned me, and prompted some serious contemplation.
This story is exactly like the story of the ZM who was walking with his advanced student when some geese flew overhead. The ZM asked the student, "Where have they flown." The student replied, "Master, they're already flown away." The ZM then suddenly grabbed the student's nose, twisted it violently, and said, How could they possibly have flown away?"
When I read the Huang Po story, I could imagine a sage asking, "If you had been there, how could you have answered Nan Chuan's question satisfactorily?" IOW, HP made a mistake when he held up the knife. That "answer" isn't bad, but the understanding/realization behind that answer is far from what NC was looking for.
"What are you going to use to cut them (the vegetables) with?" "Where have they (the geese) gone?" These are heavy-duty questions, and it's the same underlying issue (though more explicit) that you raised with Stillness concerning his statements about Source never being in conflict. How does one stop responding as a guest and manifest as Host? How does one go from outside to inside? This is where some seriously-deep water lies.