An important rule I follow as I move along in my recovery is to take time for myself – time go on vacation, time to meditate, time to relax.

When I was in early recovery I immediately jumped into the rat race with the rest of my fellow Americans. I thought everything I was doing was supremely important and couldn’t be accomplished without my loving and educated hand upon it. I didn’t know how to delegate; I didn’t know how to accept help from those around me. And in most cases my ego said I was the only man for the job.

In addition, I had this residual guilt, this sense of having wasted so many years drinking, drugging, and walking the yards of various prisons and jails. And while it was true I'd spent my earlier years unwisely, there was no way I was going to make up for this time – no matter hard or fast I spun my wheels.

However, it was only after about five years into recovery that I began enjoying the fruits of my hard work. But even then, on that first vacation, I must have stopped at every phone booth in the State of Oregon to make collect calls back to my business. (This was before I thought I could afford a cell phone.)

Today, though, I write this after returning home last night from two weeks on the Mexican Riviera. I know my office is still there. My managers have been staying in touch. The bank account looks fine. And, it all happened without my minute by minute guidance.