I’ve come to believe that life is less about raw talent and more about the company you keep. It’s a simple truth: you rise to the level around you, and you fall to the level around you.

When I was younger, I loved playing Ping Pong. I noticed something remarkable—if I played with someone better than me, even if they beat me every set, my game sharpened. My reflexes quickened, my strategies deepened, and little by little, I closed the gap. But if I played down—competing with people who weren’t pushing me—I didn’t grow. In fact, my own skills started to slip.

Life works the same way, especially inside the family. If you grow up in a house where the bar is set high—where parents value hard work, honesty, and kindness—you tend to carry those habits into your own life. I saw that in my own home. When my kids were younger, they watched not just what I said but what I did. If I cut corners, they noticed. If I pushed myself, they noticed that too. Just like in Ping Pong, they were “playing up” to whatever level I set.

But the opposite is just as true. Families can normalize bad habits just as quickly as good ones. If the family dinner table becomes a place for constant negativity or blame, everyone starts sinking to that level. It’s not because they want to, but because that’s the tone being set.

I’ve learned that the home court is often where the most important games are played. Children rise—or fall—to the level their parents establish. Spouses either lift each other up or quietly hold each other back. And extended family—siblings, cousins, grandparents—create a web of influence that either encourages growth or fosters complacency.

Too often, we underestimate how much our circle shapes us. Spend time with people who complain, cut corners, or settle for mediocrity, and soon you’ll mirror their habits. But put yourself in rooms—or families—where ambition, kindness, and resilience are the baseline, and you’ll be forced to grow just to keep up.

It’s not about comparison—it’s about exposure. By playing tennis with someone better than me, I wasn’t just trying to beat them; I was borrowing a piece of their excellence until it became my own. In family life, the same principle applies. Kids don’t need lectures as much as they need examples. Spouses don’t need criticism as much as they need encouragement. The dynamic we create inside our homes will echo for generations.

The truth is, we don’t rise alone, and we don’t fall alone either. Who we allow into our inner circle—our family most of all—may be the single greatest predictor of where we end up.

So ask yourself: are you playing Ping Pong with someone who sharpens your game—or someone who dulls it? And in your family, are you setting the level high enough for everyone else to rise?