Growth Horizons Wealth Management LLC

I’m reading a really challenging book right now.

It’s dense.
It’s slow.
It’s the kind of book you have to wrestle with instead of consume.

The book?

The Tortoise and the Hare.

The older I get, the more I think it’s a lesson for me than it is for Roman.

Because the hare looks impressive.

Fast.
Talented.
Confident.
Hard to ignore.

But the tortoise understands something the hare doesn’t:

Pace matters.

I thought about that during Murph on Memorial Day.

For the first run, I was slow. Very slow.

There were guys out there running 5- and 6-minute miles, and I was one of the last ones back in after the first mile.

It would have been easy to feel behind.

But I knew what was coming.

100 pull-ups.
200 push-ups.
300 squats.
Another mile run.

So I stayed patient.

I paced the run.
Kept moving.
Didn’t redline too early.

And by the end, I finished in the top 5% of the workout.

Not because I was the fastest.

Because I didn’t burn out trying to look fast at the beginning.

That feels like a pretty good metaphor for life.

In business, fitness, family, and money, it is easy to admire speed.

The fast promotion.
The big exit.
The overnight success.
The aggressive investment.
The person who seems to be sprinting ahead.

But most durable things are built by people who know how to pace themselves.

A healthy marriage.
A strong family.
A resilient business.
A body that can carry responsibility.
A financial life that creates options.

The tortoise is not slow because he lacks ambition.

He is steady because he sees the big picture.

The goal is not to look fast.

The goal is to finish with something intact.

Your health.
Your relationships.
Your integrity.
Your peace.
Your ability to keep going.

This past Memorial Day, the best part wasn’t finishing near the top.

It was looking over and seeing Roman trying to do pushups next to me.

A reminder that the pace I choose is not just shaping my life.

It’s shaping what he sees as normal.

Less sprinting.

More compounding.

Be the tortoise.

*This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as personalized financial, tax, legal, or investment advice. Individual circumstances vary. Consult appropriate professionals regarding your specific situation.

This past year has felt like responsibility expanding in every direction.

At work, we’ve grown from one employee to three.

At home, we’ve grown from one child to two.

Different worlds.

Same lesson.

You don’t wait until opportunity arrives to build the foundation.

You build the foundation so you’re ready when opportunity comes knocking.

For a long time, I thought growth was mostly about saying yes.

Yes to the next client.
Yes to the next hire.
Yes to the next project.
Yes to the next opportunity.

But this past year has taught me something different.

Growth requires subtraction before addition.

You have to cut the fat.

Get clear on what actually matters.

Stop giving energy to things that make you feel busy.

Create margin before you need it.

Because when life starts expanding, you don’t rise to the level of the opportunity.

You fall back to the strength of your foundation.

That’s true in business.

It’s true in marriage.

It’s true in fatherhood.

It’s true in your health.

And it’s true in financial planning.

The goal is not to make your life as full as possible.

The goal is to give attention to the areas that are actually blossoming.

This season has forced me to ask:

What deserves more of me?

And just as importantly:

What no longer does?
Because responsibility doesn’t usually arrive with perfect timing.

The second child comes.

The team grows.

The business needs more leadership.

The opportunities increase.

And if the foundation is weak, all of that feels overwhelming.

But if you’ve done the quiet work ahead of time…

the new responsibility doesn’t crush you.

It calls you forward.

That’s the kind of growth I want.

Less noise.

More clarity.

Less chasing.

More stewardship.

And enough margin to say yes when the right opportunities finally arrive.

*This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as personalized financial, tax, legal, or investment advice. Individual circumstances vary. Consult appropriate professionals regarding your specific situation.

“I just got laid off… and somehow this might be my highest tax year ever.”

That sounds backwards.

This is a situation many professionals face during career transitions.

A high-performing professional spends decades building a career.

Then suddenly they’re separated from the company.

Now they’re staring at a completely different financial picture:

Severance.
Company stock.
Stock options.
A large 401(k).
A child heading to college.
A new job offer that may pay less, but provide more flexibility.
And a tax bill they can’t quite see yet.

On paper, there’s money.

But emotionally?

It feels like uncertainty.

Because the question isn’t just:

“How much did I make this year?”
It becomes:
How much should I set aside for taxes?
Should I exercise the options now or wait?
Should I sell company stock?
Should I roll over the 401(k)?
Should I take the new job?
Can I afford to work less?
Can I retire earlier than I thought?
Am I about to make one expensive mistake?

This is where a lot of high-performing professionals feel stuck.

Not because they’ve been careless.

Because their income changed faster than their plan.

The W-2 system works reasonably well when life is predictable.

But the moment you add severance, stock comp, options, capital gains, and a career transition, your old tax structure may no longer fit.

That’s when tax planning stops being about “deductions.”

It becomes about timing.

The goal isn’t to avoid taxes.

It’s to avoid being surprised by them.

A layoff with severance can feel like an ending.

But with the right planning, it can also become a decision point.

A chance to ask:

What do I want this next season to look like?

And how do I coordinate the money, taxes, and career decisions to support that life?

Because the biggest mistake in a transition year is waiting until tax season to find out what already happened.

*This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as personalized financial, tax, legal, or investment advice. Individual circumstances vary. Consult appropriate professionals regarding your specific situation.

A significant gain in a single stock can create opportunities—but it can also create planning decisions.

But it is still a problem that needs a plan.

A recent conversation involved a question many employees with concentrated stock positions face:

“It’s been on a great run this month, but I’m wondering if you might recommend selling a portion and diversifying away from a single stock? Also, if I were to sell and reinvest in say, a mutual fund does that trigger a taxable event?”

That question captures the exact tension a lot of Dell employees and former Dell employees may be feeling right now.

You’re glad the stock is up.

But now you have to decide what to do with it.

And that decision gets complicated when the stock came from years of working at the company.

RSUs.
ESPP shares.
Stock options.
Old shares with large embedded gains.

You don’t just see a ticker symbol.

You see years of work.
Career history.
Company loyalty.
And the possibility that it could keep going higher.

That’s what makes concentrated stock so emotionally difficult.

The risk is obvious on paper.

But the decision rarely feels obvious in real life.

And yes —In many cases, selling appreciated stock held in a taxable account may result in capital gains taxes.

Which means this is not just an investment decision.

It’s a tax planning decision.

Before selling, you want to understand:

• Which tax lots have the largest gains
• Whether some shares qualify for long-term capital gains treatment
• Whether charitable giving could be done with appreciated shares instead of cash
• Whether a donor-advised fund makes sense
• Whether an exchange fund could help reduce single-stock concentration, where available and appropriate
• Whether sales should happen all at once or across multiple tax years

The goal is not to guess the top.

The goal is to turn concentrated wealth into coordinated wealth.

Because “the stock went up” is good news.

What you do with that good news is the plan.

This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as personalized investment, tax, or legal advice. Examples are illustrative only. Investment and tax decisions should be evaluated based on an individual's circumstances. Past performance is not indicative of future results.

Most people don’t realize they’re being ruled…

until they start trying to take control of their life.

One idea I’ve been thinking about from We Who Wrestle with God by Jordan B. Peterson is this progression:

The tyrant.
The desert.
The promised land.

At first, life is structured for you.

A job you don’t fully control.
A schedule you didn’t design.
Expectations you didn’t question.

Nothing is necessarily “wrong.”

But you’re not fully free either.

That’s the tyrant.

Not always a person.

Sometimes just a system you’ve been living inside for so long that it feels normal.

Eventually, some people decide to leave.

They take a step toward something different.

More ownership.
More control.
More responsibility.

That’s where things get misunderstood.

Because leaving the tyrant doesn’t immediately lead to freedom.

It leads to the desert.

Uncertainty.
Risk.
Doubt.
Long stretches where nothing feels settled.

This is where most people turn back.

Not because they can’t make it.

Because the discomfort feels like a sign they made the wrong decision.

But it’s not.

It’s part of the process.

The people who keep going eventually reach something different.

Not perfection.

But stability that they actually designed.

A life where:

Their time is more aligned.
Their work has meaning.
Their financial decisions feel intentional.

That’s the “land of milk and honey.”

Not easy.

But earned.

And in my experience, this shows up just as much in people’s financial lives as it does anywhere else.

Most people aren’t stuck because they lack opportunity.

They’re stuck because they haven’t decided to leave what’s comfortable.

And the ones who do…

have to be willing to walk through a season where nothing feels certain.

That’s the tradeoff.

And it’s also the path.

*This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as investment, tax, or financial advice.

“I was trading a lot during COVID… and I realized I didn’t want to keep doing this.”

That’s a situation that came up frequently around that time.

A lot of people had built solid portfolios, but got pulled into more active trading.

Some wins.
Some losses.
But more than anything… fatigue.

The constant decision-making.
The feeling of always having to be “on.”

Over time, many people began shifting away from activity and toward more structured approaches.

From reacting → to planning.

For individuals working internationally, there can also be additional planning considerations, such as how income is treated and how that impacts broader financial decisions.

In some cases, that opens the door to more proactive tax planning strategies.

Things like:
• Focusing on long-term investment structure instead of frequent trading
• Being intentional about how different types of accounts are used
• Coordinating tax planning with overall investment decisions

Not to chase returns — but to be thoughtful about positioning over time.

But the most important shift isn’t the numbers.

It’s the mindset.

Moving away from trying to outmaneuver the market…
And toward following a consistent plan.

Because financial progress often doesn’t come from doing more.

It comes from doing the right things… consistently… over time.

*This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as investment, tax, or financial advice. Individual situations may vary.*

You log into your accounts and realize you have money in 10 different places.

“We are doing all the right things… so why does it feel so messy?”

That was the underlying tension in a recent conversation with a couple in their mid-career.

Nothing was broken.
Two solid careers.
Retirement accounts through work.
A few additional accounts built over time.
Money set aside for their kids.

On paper, everything looked good.

But as we talked through it, a different reality started to show up.

Not confusion.
Fragmentation.

Accounts in different places.
Decisions made at different times.
Money allocated with no real coordination behind it.

And the feeling that came with it was subtle, but real:

“I think we’re doing okay… but I don’t actually know.”

That’s where many high earners find themselves.

Not because they lack discipline.
But because their financial life evolved faster than their structure.

In your 20s and early 30s, it’s simple:
Make money.
Save what you can.
Get ahead.

But eventually something shifts.

The accounts get bigger.
The decisions carry more weight.
And the margin for error feels smaller.

That’s when the real problem shows up:

Not a lack of effort.
A lack of coordination.

Investments aren’t aligned with taxes.
Taxes aren’t aligned with cash flow.
Cash flow isn’t aligned with goals.

And everything starts to feel heavier than it should.

The solution often isn’t doing more.

It’s connecting what already exists.

Because when things start working together…
it can bring more clarity and reduce that low-level uncertainty.

*This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as investment, tax, or financial advice. Individual situations may vary.*

375 lb back squat… two weeks before our second kid was born.

A few years ago, I would’ve had a list of reasons why that wasn’t possible.

Not enough time.
Too many responsibilities.
Wrong season of life.

Those are the same reasons I hear from a lot of people now.

And to be fair — they’re not wrong.

Life does get fuller.

Responsibility compounds.

Your margin gets tighter.

But over time I’ve realized something:
It’s usually not a motivation problem.
It’s a system problem.

I didn’t suddenly find more time.

I just started making small adjustments.

Training at consistent times.

Shortening workouts when needed.

Letting “good enough” win over perfection.

Stacking habits instead of chasing perfect weeks.

Nothing dramatic.

Just small changes that compounded.

And over time, those small adjustments created something that looks very different on the surface.

Not just in the gym.

But across everything.

Because the same principle applies to business, health, and finances:
You don’t rise to your intentions.
You fall back to your systems.

Most people assume they need more time, more energy, or a different season of life to make progress.

In reality, they usually just need a structure that fits the life they’re already living.

The season doesn’t change first.

The system does.

And everything else tends to follow.

*This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as investment, tax, or financial advice. Individual situations may vary.

$6,000 owed by April 15th.

Another year of writing a check to the IRS.

It doesn’t usually start that way.

2023: about $2k owed.
2024: about $4k owed.
2025: about $6k owed.

Nothing catastrophic.

Just slowly trending in the wrong direction.

The frustrating part?

The income is consistent.

The career is progressing.

But every April still feels like a surprise.

Not because anything is broken.

Because there’s no system behind it.

Each year becomes a guess.

Adjust withholdings a little.
Hope it lands close.
Wait until tax season to find out.

And that’s where the stress comes from.

Not the number itself…
The lack of visibility.

One shift that can help is moving from reacting to last year…
to planning based on the current year.

Looking at prior returns as feedback.

Projecting forward income.
And aligning withholdings more closely with what’s actually happening.

It doesn’t eliminate taxes.
But it can reduce the uncertainty around them.

Because at a certain point, financial progress isn’t just about making more.

It’s about reducing the things that feel unpredictable.

And for a lot of people…
taxes are one of them.

*This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as tax or investment advice. Individual situations may vary.

2:00 am.

Hospital room.

And everything happened fast.

Faster than the first time.

One minute we were settling in…

the next, Maximus was here.

I found myself standing there, holding him, thinking:

Here we go again.

Not in a stressful way.

In a way that felt… familiar.

Steady.

Like stepping back into something I already knew — but with a deeper sense of what it actually means.

The part that stayed with me the most wasn’t the moment he was born.

It was watching Roman meet him.

Seeing him try to make sense of it.

Curious.

Gentle.

A little unsure… but wanting to be close.

There’s something about that moment that’s hard to explain.

You realize things are expanding again.

Not just your family.

Your responsibility.

Your perspective.

Your awareness of time.

Nothing about it feels loud.

It just… gets bigger.

And in a strange way, it makes everything else feel a little quieter.

The things that used to feel urgent don’t carry the same weight.

The things that matter become more obvious.

Life doesn’t announce these shifts with some big, dramatic signal.

They happen at 2:00 am in a hospital room.

And then you wake up the next day…

and you’re in a new season.