
In a world with so many choices, we now have alternatives for almost everything.
How many ways do we want to get into an invert without being able to invert? How many ways do we want to get to a hip-key thread-through without being able to thread through?
And honestly, I love that. It’s super fun to find these alternative pathways and watch them open up a whole new world of movement. Suddenly, people have access to shapes, transitions, and choreography that previously felt out of reach.
Alternative pathways create choreographic freedom. They expand our movement vocabulary and give us more colors to paint with. They help us understand pathways, solve movement problems, and create possibilities that simply wouldn’t exist if there were only one “correct” way.
Alternatives aren’t “less than.”
But sometimes it’s worth revisiting the movements we’ve already decided aren’t for us and asking yourself. “Did I give that move a fair chance?”
Maybe the question isn’t whether you choose the alternative. Maybe it’s why you chose it.
Did you choose an alternative pathway because it was an escape hatch from having to be confronted with something . . .
As it relates to aerial, I think I’d adapt that slightly:
“Get curious about your limitations and you get to learn from them.”
Bodies are wonderfully complicated.
Proportions matter. Previous injuries matter. Mobility, strength, fear, anatomy… they all shape what is and isn’t available to us. Some limitations are absolutely real, and some may never change.
But what I find interesting is how much territory we sometimes give those limitations. Sometimes a limitation only affects one movement. Sometimes we quietly let it define an entire family of movements.
I don’t know what it’s like to move in your body. Neither does anyone else.
A good coach shouldn’t decide what’s possible for you. But they can stay curious alongside you and help you ask different questions.
Rather than writing a movement off completely, maybe it’s worth asking:
Maybe the next questions become:
Sometimes the alternative really is the right choice. But every now and then, it might be worth circling back to a movement you’ve already decided isn’t for you, not because you expect to conquer it, but simply to see what it has to teach you.
Let’s be clear. I’m not saying you’ll eventually be able to do the thing if you lean into it more.
That isn’t the point.
Curiosity isn’t always about getting past a limitation. Sometimes it’s about learning exactly where it begins, where it ends, and what it has to teach you.
And that’s enough.
Sarah Bebe Holmes