In this episode, Reclaim Curiosity–Through the Lens of a Diamond . . .
“Beauty is the illumination of your soul.” — John O’Donohue.
As a young gemologist, I stood before diamonds as some might stand under the stars—quiet, attentive, drawn in by something that felt much larger than language.
I thought: This isn’t just about science. This is about wonder.
But it wasn’t until I began teaching others to see that I truly understood the art of curiosity — and how easy it is to lose it. My colleagues referred to this as the Art and Science of Gemology.
Most students entered my classroom expecting a technical lesson: grading charts, clarity scales, pricing rules. What surprised them—and transformed them—was something far less measurable.
I began each session with a “Thought for the Day” on the overhead and posed a question as they settled into the classroom.
“What do you see?”
And then, a second:
“What don’t you see yet?”
As adults, many hesitated and were frustrated (accustomed to certainty). Slowly, through Cut, Color, and Light, something shifted. They leaned closer, asked better questions, and saw beyond the surface. They rediscovered curiosity—not just about diamonds but about perception itself.
Over time, discussions with colleagues, friends, and family made me ponder: What defines a Curious Person?
Curious people don’t simply want information — they want intimacy with the world. They’re not satisfied with labels; they want to know what light feels like when it bends, how something becomes more than the sum of its parts.
Curious people ask:
- “What else could this be?”
- “What haven’t I noticed?”
- “What’s trying to show itself here?”
They are not driven by the need to know everything or by the desire always to be right; instead, they are motivated by the joy of wondering.
Losing Curiosity — and Getting It Back
As we grow older, we often trade wonder for efficiency. We stop asking questions. We settle for the surface. We forget that everything — even a single diamond — holds more than we can see at first glance. But curiosity isn’t gone–it’s waiting.
As John O’Donohue writes,
“Familiarity is one of the most subtle and pervasive forms of human alienation.”
In other words, it's not that the world loses its beauty; it’s that we stop taking the time to look for it. We can become so accustomed to our surroundings that we forget to appreciate them – and ourselves – in the process.
How to Begin Again–Simple Practices
Here are a few small ways I’ve learned—through study in the classroom and throughout life—to nurture curiosity in ourselves and others:
- Look for the play of light. Literally and metaphorically. How does light change what you thought you knew? How does it deepen what you see?
- Ask better questions. Not just what is it? But what else might it be?
- Slow down. Curiosity matures in stillness. In quiet observation. In the space between seeing and understanding.
- Teach others to see. The fastest way to awaken your curiosity is to help someone else discover theirs. Teaching was my greatest classroom.
- Stay open. Always. One of my mentors once told me: “The moment you think you’ve seen everything, you stop seeing anything at all.”
Curiosity, like a well-cut diamond, reveals itself in layers. The surface is brilliant, yes — but also depth, fire, and the invisible geometry of light. We are all born with this kind of inner light. We need to polish the lens through which we see the world.
If you have ever admired (or envied) another person's creativity, passion, or sense of wonder and thought-
“Why not me?”
The answer is–It is you. It always has been.
Polish the lens. Imagine it's your first time!
I’m Patrick Ball. Stay curious, ask questions. I’ll see you in the next episode.
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