Today while in a bedside tutorial a neurologist told our group of medical students, “When you are talking to a patient, you need to go back to when you were three. What did you always ask?” None of us answered.

“Why? Why? Why?”

Always keep digging, he explained. There is more to one’s medical history, social history and history of presenting complaint than what is initially revealed. There are more stories longing to be told, more emotions to uncover, more meaning behind this conversation. If you are impatient or take someone at their word, you will miss a whole lot. And with enough time and listening, you might even begin to understand them.

I’ve noticed that a common feature of my lowest, most depressive moods is a profound lack of curiosity. When life and nature and people are no longer interesting, depression is at your doorstep. The world turns lifeless, smells disappear and nothing surprises you. When I attempted suicide many years ago I wrote in my journal, “The world looks grey. I cannot see colours. My world once full of beauty is now meaningless.”

One of the reasons I decided to live was because of a garden bush near my apartment. It belonged to a house a few doors down, one I had walked past many times but never noticed, and what struck me was its colour. The bush was by no means impressive – it was disorderly and unkempt – but amidst the pitch black sky and the grey filter it threw over everything, this bush seemed to defy all odds and shine bright green. The vividness of its shade was extraordinary.

And then I turned my attention to the house the bush belonged to. I saw there were engravings on the ceiling and that it was shaped like a palace. The design was actually quite lovely. On the front wall was a sculpture of a Greek-looking face with curly hair. “I wonder who that is?” I thought. And suddenly my world became more interesting, less unmanageable.

They say that curiosity killed the cat, but I suspect that far more lives, conversations and beauty have been lost by a lack of wonder than too much.

“The most important thing is to never stop questioning.” Albert Einstein wrote. “Curiosity has its own reason for existing.”