I started doing Yoga many years ago after I threw my back out, and the doctor recommended “stretching.” I never took a class or found any formal routine, I would glance through books or magazines and would incorporate any poses that I found interesting. Over the years, I’ve settled into a routine that works well for me.

I do my routine twice a day. I first do the routine when I get up, and it is a peaceful awakening before I start my morning meditation. My second routine just before bedtime is quite the opposite, and usually becomes a full-contact sport.

When I start my routine, I invite my 3 year old to join me, and she loves to do them. After each pose, she’ll ask, “Whas next?” While I believe all poses have a name, I don’t really know all of them, but it doesn’t matter, we make up names, and she tries to imitate.

In fact, I have a picture of her doing her yoga when she was two, and couldn’t really talk. So while my daughter often does yoga with me, my year-old boy, thinks it looks like fun.

There is one pose, I believe it is called the child pose— but we call it the snail pose— that is too much for him to resist, and he’ll toddle over and start to climb on top. At this point, my daughter stops and joins in the monkey business, and my yoga poses become labored as I try to balance with two monkeys on my back.

Yoga in the morning ends calmly, but yoga in the evening ends in tickling and laughter… and sometimes ends with one monkey falling off and bonking a head. One ends peacefully, the other ends in life.