I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if

“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're doing something.” Thus spoke Neil Gaiman, the storyteller whose words have kindled the imagination of countless souls. In this reflection — as gentle as a blessing, yet as firm as a command — he gives voice to an ancient truth: that mistakes are not the marks of failure, but the footprints of creation. His is not the counsel of caution, but of courage. He reminds us that the path of life is not paved with perfection, but with the uneven stones of effort, discovery, and daring.

From the earliest days of humankind, progress was born not from certainty, but from error. The first fire scorched the hands of the one who lit it. The first bridge collapsed before the builder learned the secret of balance. The first word spoken was clumsy and crude, yet it gave birth to language. So too does Gaiman urge us to embrace our flaws not as wounds to hide, but as signs that we are alive, learning, and moving forward. The mistake is not the enemy of wisdom; it is its teacher. To live without error is to live without growth, and to live without growth is not to live at all.

In the world of art — a world Gaiman knows well — creation is a dialogue between failure and perseverance. Every writer, painter, or inventor must face the terror of imperfection. Leonardo da Vinci, who gave us visions of beauty and genius, filled his notebooks with unfinished sketches, abandoned ideas, and failed experiments. Yet it was through those mistakes that his mastery deepened, for each misstep revealed a truth unseen before. So too, Gaiman invites us to cherish our mistakes as seeds of transformation — for to err is to reach beyond the known, to test the edges of one’s possibility.

The wisdom of this quote also lies in its compassion. Gaiman does not demand success from us; he demands motion. He reminds us that stagnation is the true defeat. “You’re doing something,” he says — and in those three words lies the essence of all creation. The sculptor chisels not knowing if the marble will break. The scientist tests, fails, and tests again. The child takes her first steps, falls, and rises once more. In each act of trying, the world changes — subtly, profoundly, irreversibly. Mistakes are the fingerprints of life in motion, proof that we have dared to meet the unknown.

This teaching echoes the philosophy of the ancients. Heraclitus, the Greek sage, taught that life is constant flux — that change is the only permanence. Those who fear mistakes, who cling to the illusion of perfection, are like stones in a riverbed — unmoving, untouched by the current of time. But those who act, who stumble and adapt, become the river itself. The wise man does not curse his errors; he studies them, learns their language, and lets them carry him toward new understanding. Gaiman, in his modern voice, continues this lineage of timeless wisdom: to live is to flow, to fall, and to rise again.

Consider, too, the story of Thomas Edison, who was once asked how he endured failure after failure in his pursuit of the lightbulb. He replied, “I have not failed. I’ve just found ten thousand ways that won’t work.” His words mirror Gaiman’s: to err is not to fail, but to discover. Each misstep illuminated the path ahead until light itself was born. The fire of invention, the spark of art, the awakening of spirit — all arise from the same sacred principle: that mistakes are the crucible of creation.

And so, my child, take this truth into your heart. When you stumble, do not curse the fall. When your plans falter, do not despair. Rejoice instead, for you are living the ancient rhythm of growth. Each error is a lesson wrapped in disguise, a doorway to something unseen. Be bold in your curiosity, fearless in your experimentation. Create not for the sake of being right, but for the joy of discovery. The gods do not demand perfection — they demand persistence.

Let this be your guiding light for the year ahead: make mistakes — glorious, clumsy, wholehearted mistakes. Try what frightens you, build what seems impossible, and learn from every broken piece. For as Neil Gaiman reminds us, to make mistakes is to act, to act is to live, and to live is to shape the world anew. Better to stumble forward into creation than to stand still in the safety of unfulfilled dreams. For in every error made with courage, the soul expands — and that, dear one, is the truest form of immortality.