The following quote by Anais Nin, the lover of “Tropic of Cancer” author, Henry Miller, got me to thinking beyond here comment about relationships between lovers.

Anxiety is love’s greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic.

~ Anais Nin

When I read this quote, I can almost picture the fear in the minds of persons who voted against the mixed use overlay. I imagine many of the Town Meeting Representative not fully understanding the article or the potentials it would allow, and in this frame of mind, I sense their rising fear. Change can be scarey for some.

Most know that change is needed, but few see it as opportunity. Most fear change. I think the evil is more pronounced in their minds because the change suggested on this occassion comes from a “blow in”; a Johnny come lately to Billerica, who has the temerity to suggest disturbing the lifelong comfort of the status quo. I can almost hear them asking themselves and their fellow townies, who are somewhat connected in town, the question; “Who is this upstart, and what makes him think he knows what we need more than we who’ve lived here all of our lives?”

Change creates an atmosphere of anxiety for many. It is more difficult, though, for those of us who have aged, but have never really been in a position to think beyond the boundaries of our safe haven of Billerica; except for, perhaps, planning a vacation. Having felt safe and secure in town all of our lives, while living through a period of prosperity and a boom in home prices, we never really were challanged or compelled to think about that daunting question: “What if?”

Now that we’ve hit a very bad stretch in our economy, many people are taking a look around and seeing more than just flowers and green grass or pretty falling leaves. They are hearing more than just crickets chirping in the evening and birds singing in the morning. At this time of the year, many of the birds are leaving. The crickets are going silent, and many other animals are preparing to hibernate or to den up for the winter. Everything around us seems to either be leaving, going to sleep or dying. It’s anxiety season and with the leafless trees exposing many of the blighted areas of our beloved town, some of us are wondering if the town is, perhaps, dying too? If so, what can we do to save her?

Then, there are those who are anxious for another reason. They are the people of Grumpyville, a small hamlet within the town of Billerica. They have their own mayor who likes to blather on while sitting on his porch. He’ll talk about any subject, but just don’t expect any sort of answer or insight. It’s best if you just take him at his word and don’t expect any kind of amplifying information. His commentary truly is no more than blather and bluster, but it makes him feel good. None of us want to come across as frustrated or mean, no matter how stupid the remark.

So, we just take in a deep breath and smile, even though the dialogue is frustratingly one way, full of all shine without much substance. The mayor and his hamlet see and hear what they want to see and hear, and they are very much closed off to any hint of change, no matter how well or comforting an explanation is given. The Mayor has all of the people in his hamlet convinced that if they even think about change, outsiders on the order of flying monkeys will come and steal their wallets, their homes, their wives and their children. Or worse, yet, they’ll keep the wallets and home and give back the wives and children.

These are the lovers of Billerica past clinging to her hand filled with old memories as she sinks deep into the Merrimack. It’s cloudy, muddy water refreshes those memories of long ago childhoods as it also helps to masquerade some of the town’s scars and faltering infrastructure. The town is struggling, it seems, for a way to rest in peace, but those from the hamlet won’t let their lover go. They’d rather sink with her than pull her and themselves out and struggle up the bank toward the sun and lie down in the dry green grasses of youthful courage and adventure.

Perhaps, like the town, those of the hamlet are simply looking forward to a peaceful sleep. Most of them are getting on in years. Many of them have had hard lives and have had to scrape and struggle for everything they have. Some of them lost their love of life along the way, and adopted in its stead a love of being miserable. So, I guess we can’t blame them if they just want lie down and live their lives in the glories of yesterday. The question then becomes, do we stand by as they cling to a love long gone, or do we hold out our hand and hope they won’t pull us down too?