Your Mind Matters – John Ryan, From Pain To Comedic Gain

Can laughter ease the pain? Well, it is known in the physiological world that it can. Psychoneuroimmunological research— I was practicing that, I knew it would go wrong— psychoneuroimmunological research suggests that in addition to its established psychological benefits, humor may have physiological effects on the immune functioning. Our serotonin and dopamine levels are activated and are increased, and it reduces the stress hormone cortisol. T-cells, which play a critical part in our immunity to foreign substances, which focus on specific foreign particles, are also activated as a part of the immune system. This helps in the healing process, but that's the physical part of our healing process. Humor is also a temporary hit of psychological elevation and wellbeing. It can elevate us out of the darkest moment. And if we understand how to make the most of that moment, we can alter our perspective, our thinking patterns, and our lives. I'm not advocating a one-hit wonder therapy here. I know as a deep psychotherapist that trauma, which many people experience in one way or another, can and does impact on such a profound level that it can take years to readjust our relationship with trust and to get ourselves onto a more steady path. But there is no doubt that humour can help that difficult and at times overwhelming road to healing. Even Chris Rock, the famous comedian, says that at times he is depressed before he goes on stage and then pow, when he delivers that line which creates laughter, it gives him a sense of relief, elevates his spirit, and his depression is lifted. So what does it take for the comedian and the person who recognizes through their own childhood experiences that they can make a difference? What does it take psychologically? Are they burdened by the need to help? Do they, like Sisyphus in the Greek myth, feel they are rolling a boulder up a steep hill only for it to fall back down again? Is it too hard? To achieve the ultimate goals. My guest today is John Ryan, a speaker, presenter, and business advisor in the world of mental health and well-being. He is a successful comedian on the comedy circuit, which believe me is not an easy achievement. But because of his background and the insight he developed, he is offering so much more. I am Dr. Maria Kempinska, and this is Your Mind Matters. I'm delighted to welcome John, and can you please give us all your background history? I've just never— that was a fascinating introduction. I was thinking, oh, Sisyphus, I've not heard that mentioned on Radio 4. I'm thinking, it'll be a bit of a giggle. I tell you, I always remember hearing that story and thinking, why did he never give up? Why did he, you know, just kept pushing that, pushing that boulder endlessly up the steep hill? And I think sometimes in life we all get that feeling that we're just working against the odds and should just give up and let that boulder roll back. And yeah, but you don't, do you? And you know, I— we've known each other for a long time, and I know I'm very proud to know you. And I know that apart from the work you do on the comedy circuit, which is phenomenal, You've also created your own path, but before we go down that path, John, can you please tell us about your background? Because your background contextualizes, A, your thinking, and B, you know, the struggle. It's not an easy path. You didn't have everything handed to you on a plate, and it can help people understand just what it does take to create your own path. Well, yeah, I I was born into an Irish family, excuse me, big Irish family I'm very proud of in Hackney in East London, which was a very multicultural experience. So consequently, my experience of being British is based on growing up in an Irish family surrounded by people of color. So that's my England. And from that, I've got this sense of being part of a much bigger thing, which had a big influence on my life. I was one of 5 kids. I was the second. The third one died very young, which kind of shaped my whole life. I was brought up by my parents who were what I would call traditional Irish parents. I'm sure it's the same for other nationalities as well. But we were never told, you know, I love you, or given a cuddle or any of that kind of thing, which I never really thought was a problem because I knew no different. My mother suffered from clinical depression all her life. I think partly due to losing a child, but also probably from her own life experiences. My dad was put up for fostering as a, as a child, never knew his family, and was treated, treated very, very badly throughout his early life. So for him, family was very, very important, but his thing was all about looking out for each other and having obligations rather than, you know, having love and support for each other. We spent a lot of time with, um, aunts and uncles, grew up with a lot with my cousins because both my parents had a kind of antipathy towards English people. So consequently, I grew up with this accent and an almost bizarre distrust of white English people, um, because I never really experienced many of them in my early years. And then as I grew up, my two best friends, one was Indian and one was Jamaican. I spent a lot of time in their houses, so I learned that other cultures had other ways of doing things. I've got a love of the exotic, I guess. I've got a palate for spicy food and food from around the world, and I realized that the world wasn't the Anglo-centric place that I was being taught about at school. And that's really shaped my experiences because, you know, we had gay neighbors who everyone knew as, um, Gay Colin and Gordon. Nobody had a problem with it, and nor should we have. But realizing that this was the '70s and '80s, things were even less tolerant than they are today. So we just grew up thinking people are people, and good and bad people come in all shapes and sizes. And that's kind of really where my comedy comes from and my whole sort of life philosophy comes from. But where did you start? Did you start in comedy? I, um, was brought up— my dad was barely literate, my mum left school at 9, so education wasn't considered, uh, necessary. I was born to be a builder, um, and when I left school, I started— well, I started working on building sites when I was very young with my dad. You'd go and pick up screws or you'd go do some painting. Or odd jobs sweeping up. And as you got older, you learned more skills. But I didn't like it. It was too cold. And that's as honest as I can be. Yeah. I decided that it wasn't for me. We always did voluntary work. My mum's belief was the devil makes work for idle hands. So if you ever said I was bored, you'd have a bucket of foaming water shoved into your hands and a cloth and be told to go and clean the windows. Okay, but okay, let's look at that as a premise. Is that correct? Does the devil make— I think so. Yeah, like, what is the term? Devil makes— Devil makes work for idle hands. Yeah, so it's in the— you work on behalf of the devil if you're lazy. If you're doing nothing, he'll find something for you to do, mischief or— yeah. So on Aries, I was one of the few kids that never had a criminal record. Like that. Probably goes across my family, really. But, um, so her thing was you'd go and do voluntary work. There was a convent up the road, go and wash dishes for the nuns. So that was a punishment. She didn't believe in hitting us. She'd give us a slap, but if you kind of really transgressed, you'd have to go and wash dishes for the nuns in this old folks home. Um, always had to do voluntary work with people that she would call less fortunate than us. So, you know, kids with disabilities, um, elderly people. And then so I got that, I guess, that kind of practical side of me thinking, do something, comes from that. And also helping other people was instilled into me at a very early age. And what was it that enabled your mother to think like that? What was her background? And obviously your father, if he was adopted, was he fostered? They wouldn't adopt because they got more money for fostering. Ah. So your father was fostered. So both of them came from tricky backgrounds, difficult, you know, potentially— I don't know their full history— traumatic backgrounds. You know, fostering isn't easy and it always leaves a scar. And I think the education system now knows that how trauma can leave a scar and impair children and stop them from learning. And I think, let's be clear about this, John, it's not until the 1980s PTSD was diagnosed as something that affected your mental health. Um, so it's not till the '80s that your parents would have been recognized, but by then for them it would have been too late. Yeah, definitely, definitely. Uh, my dad was, as a child, slept in the outhouse or slept in the shed. Um, wasn't allowed in the house for food. He was fed outside. It was barbaric. There's a couple of them. Um, it would be called obviously the outright child abuse now, but It was considered kindness in Ireland in the 1940s and '30s, I guess, that, well, blessed that they've taken him in. He was a result of an illicit liaison, which is probably the most polite way of describing it. So you should be grateful for what you had. Yeah, and that was his punishment. Yeah, yeah, that was his punishment for being born outside what they called wedlock. But a very kind and caring man, never raised his hand to us. It was always good fun, always chatted, sociable. It's where I get my sociability from, to be honest. Yes. So how did he end up— what's your take on that? Did you ever ask him, how did you do that, Dad, when you were brought up in such extreme circumstances? If you ask my dad a question like that, he'd go, oh, the toaster was broken, I gotta go and look at it. Yeah, yeah. He would never talk about any— never open up, never. But what would you make of it then? Well, you just learn to accept rather than question. Right. And so you then kind of think, well, I guess in life you're all on your own at the end of the day. It's just that while you're awake, who you share that time with. Yeah, yeah, it's so true. And you have to make your own life, but that's easier said than done, isn't it? But coming back now, you say you are growing up, and as we know how profoundly important a mother is to our lives, but your mother, as you say, had clinical depression. Yeah. And how was that dealt with when you were growing up? Uh, she self-medicated with, uh, brandy. And then when she discovered, like, antidepressants, she'd kind of use it. She was kind of permanently on this kind of mellow vibe, I guess. Okay. Very acerbic tongue, um, and very, uh, a real strong matriarchal figure. So I've always had very strong women in my life. And the kind of— at an early age, the biggest influence on me was a little old lady who lived next door. Daisy, she was about 92, and everyone on the estate was scared of her because they thought she was a witch. She didn't have television, she didn't have lights. We used to knock on her door and play knock and run, and she'd come out and shake her stick at us. And then I got suspended from school for fighting, as always, and my punishment was to go into Daisy's. And I said, I'm not going to go in there. And my mum said, you're going to go in there. So I had to, after school the first day. All the kids on the estate knew I was going to go in there and she was going to kill me and eat me. I was petrified. And I showed him the door and this house smelt of cheese and it was dark and dank. And she said, right, get in there, and pointed to this little room, which I was like, I'm not going in there. She lifted the stick and said, get in there, go to the toilet and come out and go into that room. So I did as I was told, went into this room which was filled with books and a big table. She came in with a glass of orange juice and an apple. She said, drink that, eat that, pick a book. And not a word out of you, which I did. I was amazed by all these books. And this process was repeated every day. And at the end of the week, she came into the house. My mum said, how was he? And she said, he was fine, he's just a very quiet boy. He just reads a book and just gets on with it. He's not rude or anything. My mum said, that doesn't sound like him, he's planning something. And you go in there next week. And I went in the following week, same the following Saturday. Yeah, he's fine. And my mum said, right, if you misbehave at school anymore 'You're going to go in there.' And I wanted to go in there. I actually— by that time you did— wanted to. I wanted to read every book on the shelf. And by the end of the second week, she was talking to me about history, about the war. She taught me how to make cheese, which was quite— and we made bread. And it's just, it was an adult taking an interest. I was getting attention after school, something to eat and drink, and I wasn't running around with all the feral kids. And how old were you then? I was about 7 or 8. Okay, that's quite a profound age, isn't it? Yeah, when she died, I was devastated. I was just— I was about 13 or 14 by then, and I was just heartbroken. And, um, and of course, you know, my mother's attitude was, 'What are you crying for? We'll get another neighbor.' Right. She didn't get it. No, she did, but her thing was life is hard and right, you need to kind of toughen up and get used to it. And did that continue, your reading, your ability to read, you loving books? Well, I went to a school which was actually closed down for bad academic attainment the day I got my master's degree. Same day. It was just one of those ironic twists of fate. The, the next big female influence in my life was the head of the care home that I worked in, um, because I— when it was too cold on the building sites, uh, one of the nuns said, look, the care home up the road is looking for just someone to big, uh, like a care assistant, domestic assistant kind of thing. Um, so in I went, met Mrs. Thompson, who was this big fiery Jamaican woman who after 3 months said, you are too good to work here, I'm going to send you to college. And I said, I don't want to go to college. You're going to go to college and you're going to do some A-levels in Hackney Council. I'm going to pay for it and pay for your books and give you time off work to do it. And so I did it and then went to university. Fabulous. And which A-levels and which degree did you do at university? Well, I ended up with A-levels in English, history, biology, and psychology. Wow. And then did a degree in social science in Manchester. And Manchester is where Ben Elton went. Yeah, yeah, it's quite, quite a few established Illuminati, Illumini, what do you call them, alumni. I'm doing it now. And then I came out of there, got a job in community care. For 10 years. Okay. And yeah, loved that job. It's great. Most of my clients were, again, people with mental health problems, elderly, frail, end of life. And some of my clients were the ex-Carry On stars, fallen on hard times. And interestingly for me, one of them was a woman called Lady Longford, who was Lord Longford's wife. Really? And the bizarre thing for that was that my family are from the county of Longford in in Ireland, and I was sitting one day drinking tea with her thinking, 200 years ago, my ancestors probably dug holes in a field for you, and now here I am, one of the last people you'll ever talk to. And it was just something kind of full closure, I guess. Yes, it sort of, you know, healing that circle, was it? Did you feel— how did that make you feel? I just thought it was very, very bizarre because it's just that thing, isn't it, how our family's journeys have taken us. Yeah, but there is that. But I think, um, actually there was a criticism of Prince Harry, uh, talking about hereditary pain, uh, somewhere. And although I'm not, uh, you know, I don't want to go into— we're not talking about Harry and Meghan on what they're doing, but just that point that he made, he brought to the public awareness. There is hereditary pain, I think so, and, uh, there is a sort of cycle and a spiritual cycle and a psychological cycle that we carry forward. And that there's a fabulous book that actually deals with that. I'm actually looking at my shelf at the moment by Mark Woolin that deals with the hereditary pain. There aren't many things that actually talk about that unless you're in the spiritual world. But you saying that, that's exactly what it's done, hasn't it? I presume you felt that you have come to the end of that cycle, that your work is finished. Do you think you have been the one that stood out, that you have stood alone from your family and that you have healed the pain? I don't know about healing the pain, but very much stood out. I'm very different to my other siblings, but I just don't see rejection because I guess that kind of lack of affection and love, if you call it what you will, has obviously shaped my personality. I mean, you know, I went through quite a few girls when I was a teenager, and looking back, I can kind of think I probably didn't behave too well in a lot of those situations. Okay. Um, there's that thing about coping with affection and knowing how to sort of deal with those emotions of, oh, you know, am I going to get dumped, kind of thing. Yeah, but isn't there a couple of things there, isn't it? Also, there was that time of the throwaway society, you know, not only were sort of paper bags thrown away, but relationships are being thrown away. So it's not just your own attitude, it's, you know, attitude that was expected to some extent, wasn't it? I think so. And what you could get away with. Yeah, it's more that really, what you could get away with. Yeah, and I do think the whole thing about You know, holding the boundaries, whoever it is that's holding the boundaries, it's so powerful. Coming back to that point, Mark Woolin, the book is, if anybody wants to read it, It Didn't Start With You. It's how inherited family trauma shapes who we are and how to end the cycle. It's such an amazing book. And it's something I've always known being Polish, you know, that there's so much more to us psychologically and spiritually and actually physiologically. They recognize the physiological nature of inheritance, but not necessarily The Psychological, but if anybody wants to read that book, it's a brilliant book. So there you are, and you've stood out from your family crowd, if you like. Yeah, very much. Very much. How did you do that? Which part of your family did you— you know, we look at our parents as we grow up, not everybody, but we do unconsciously, not everybody recognizes it. And we say, oh, I want to be like that. I don't want to be like that. Oh my goodness, that's the whole point of rebellion at teenage years. You know, I don't want to be like you, I will never do what you do, Mum, or I'd never do what you do, Dad, I'll never be like him. Yeah. Did you do that? I did. Again, without being too kind of flippant about it, this week's St. Patrick's Week and it's a very, very big thing in the Irish community. But for most of my early years, I didn't want anything to do with the Irish community because of the sort of stereotyping and the jokes and just everything associated with it. So when people would go, oh, you know, two paddies walking, I'll go, hang on, that's my dad and my uncle. I don't— if they're stupid, I don't want to be part of that stupid. And at school, um, in the playground, we play football, England versus the rest of the world, and I'd want to be Kevin Keegan. And the kids would go, no, you, you go over there, you're with the black kids. All right, okay, I'll, I'll I'll go over there and be Liam Brady. And, you know, the Black kids were much, much more accepting of me. And consequently, I still am very much more at home around a diverse community than I am around, you know, an all-white— it's almost like an inverted chip on my shoulder, to be honest. Yeah, is it a chip on your shoulder? But is it, you know, let's look at it in psychological terms. I mean, my parents, as anybody who knows me and listeners might know, that my parents are Polish political refugees. So they were thrown out of their own country, taken out prisoners of war, joined the British forces in North Africa, fought at Monte Cassino and came to the UK. And I always believe that people that come to their country, you've got this sort of divided feeling about being in the country. You want to be in the country because the UK actually, in my eyes, is about the best place you can be regardless of all the difficulties. And I know there are difficulties for everybody, but also you've got this outsider feel all the time. Yeah. And people say to me, well, why do you— God, you've done that, that, that, and that. And I say, yeah, you know, because I will, I will wear a green shield stamp if it gives me recognition, because you need to get recognition in a society that you weren't born into. And I think most refugees do that. And I think it's almost like you are that outsider that's come in. Yeah, so that's quite understandable that you feel the way you do. I think so. And then I would find comfort in work or friendships or whatever and be quite, you know, quite easygoing, quite happy with it. I loved my day job. I worked 3 12-hour shifts a week. And then when my kids came along, it meant I could be a stay-at-home dad. So I just idolized my kids because I wanted to pass on that affection and make sure that they never felt unwanted or unloved. So where did your ability to be, you know, full of affection, where did that come from? I think because I always had it in me, because I was a very sensitive kid, which is why I was probably so violent, because I couldn't cope with being teased for reading a book of poetry or for, you know, loving an old lady who lived next door. And I was— and I could fight, so if you started mocking me, I'd batter you. And my thing would be, I don't want to hit you, but you're making me feel bad and you're hurting me by belittling me. So I'll lash out. And were you very strong? And secondly, my other question is, and I was told this, I, you know, had two brothers. I say had, one of them died very, you know, it moved me beyond belief when he died. Uh, such a hard experience. And, uh, both my brothers were very strong, and I'm so pleased I've got two brothers and two sisters. But boys, they seem to— Did you hear that? Sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't get any of that. You got up as far as boys seem to, and then it went quiet. Yeah, so boys seem to express themselves through their physicality. I was a little child, okay? So I would think nothing of picking up a bit of wood and hitting you in the face with it because you're bigger than me, so therefore I need to equalize things here. And when I went into the old lady to read the books, It was because I'd hit a kid with a brick and he had basically tormented me for quite some time. And the final straw for me was when he picked his nose and wiped it on me and laughed, and his three mates laughed. So I looked around, saw this brick, and just hit him in the head with it. Yeah, but nowadays, let's put that— let's sort of skip forward 30-plus years. Nowadays, what would happen to a child in school? Those days, you were taken off school for a week and that was dealt with. Yeah. What happened to a child nowadays? Wouldn't it be more extreme, the punishment? I think so, I think so. But if I can explain though, that after I'd hit him, I went to school and, and I was told I'd killed him. And kids going, you've killed, you've killed, uh, Paul Kennedy, you've killed him, you're gonna go to prison. And I, and I quite liked it. I said, well, I'm gonna, I'm gonna kill a few more people, you leave me alone. And when I went home, my sister was like, oh, your mum's gonna I'll kill you when she gets in. My mum came in, I expected a beating, but she sat me down and said, well, why would you do that? And I said, because he picked his nose and wiped it on me, and he picks on me every single day. She said, but you can't do that. And, uh, the next day I went into school and— or yeah, I went to school next day and I was taken to the head's office and told I was going to be suspended depending on what happened. And then, um, when I went back into school, I saw him because I've been off like for a week when I saw him, and I went up to give him a cuddle and to say sorry, and he punched me. So I headbutted him, started kicking him when he was on the floor, and then got suspended again. So, you know, I had proper anger issues. I don't know where it came from. Yeah, but wasn't it more common? I think it was, yeah. And that was the area— that's how I was brought up. If you opened your mouth, you couldn't back it up, you didn't open your mouth. Yeah, but Boys more so than women did that. They used to do that. Definitely. And that's why, you know, so you're very much part of the comedy circuit, you know, and do you think that comedy helps channel that aggression and can it do that in some way? I, when I first started on the circuit, I had real problems with two other performers which came to a head one day in a dressing room. I think it may even have been Camden Jonglers, where I said to one of them, like, mate, we need to get to it here. Are you thinking of hitting me? And he said, why would you think that? I said, well, your body language and where you're speaking, you're making me feel a little bit provoked here, and if I'm going to hit you first, so just understand I can't cope with this conversation. And he looked at me like I was a psychopath. And, um, I think, I think Hilary Jago might have been there, who just fell about laughing, going, you can't say that to people. I said, but I don't— I'm not from this world of banter and put-downs and ridicule. And I found a lot of the comics, especially when I first started, they were just bullies, just jumped up little boys, bullies who could say what they wanted with a microphone in their hand but would never dream to say it, um, offstage to someone's face. Right. But they weren't all like that. If you look at Geoff Innocent, I loved, uh, one of Geoff Innocent's lines because he was brought up on a council estate and he equally has got an MA. I think he's done his PhD as well, as you know. Yeah. And he used to say, if we had the little old ladies like your neighbor, uh, sorting out councillors' dates, you know, they'd come in and say, leave it, you know, and they would sort out the councillors' dates. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You know, he, he used to make a point of that. But I hear what you're saying, and I knew that sort of aspect. They were very provocative on stage, just shocking. And some of the things they'd say to girls and like the homophobia and the mild racism. I'd be like, you can't— why would you say that? And because I have passion in what I believe in, I'll— I will confront you and say, you can't— don't say that, you can't— well, why not? What are you going to do? Well, what I'll do is I'll hit you in the head with a fire extinguisher. But what they mean is, well, are you going to tell the boss? Yeah, because they're from a different world, and, and I found it quite hard to adjust to. But how did you then control your anger? I think because I learned to understand that it doesn't, it doesn't help the situation, it doesn't solve the situation, it just quiets it down. And why would you want to be feared when you can be respected? Okay, and that was a big decision for you, was it? And at a very early age, yeah, I learned that as well. And, and it was very hard at first. Because as well, because of my friends and my family, you know, if I had been of a devious nature, we could have run London. You know, it's that kind of— the people I grew up with were proper wronguns, but I didn't want to be like them. But they always found me funny and indulged me. So I guess part of it was then I figured I don't want to be like them. So, you know, this is my— always my quest. So when I'm doing therapy,— and I've been in therapy— is, you know, who are we? The whole point— I prefer the Jungian approach. It's less sort of box ticking and it's very much more expansive and, you know, sort of sociologically sound. And it's— we affect everybody and everybody affects us— and much more spiritual. Is, you know, who is this unique person that's before me in my you know, sort of in my psychotherapeutic space. And how are they so unique, and what do they need to move on in their lives? What is your uniqueness, if you can look at yourself and answer that question? I don't know if it's the right way to describe it. I think I've got very clear and strong boundaries. I've had, I think, one argument in the last 10 years, and I don't want to feel that way when So sometimes if people are arguing, I'll ask them to stop because I feel my blood rising and I just don't want to feel that unhappiness or that sadness or whatever it is. Right. So you've moderated. You've recognized your own ability to get involved in that and you can feel your temperature rising, you know, your emotional temperature rising and you don't want to feel that. So you made that recognition for yourself then, I take it. Absolutely. And again, at a very early age. And it's just that, that I found, if you looked at my closest friends, that we— again, this is not a disservice to them. Um, my closest friends are the dullest people you will ever meet. They're just dull. They're just ordinary, dull, normal, everyday, regular blokes. If I have a party and you come to my house, you'll go, where are the comedians? Oh, and I'll tell you, they're probably in their own houses. They're not coming out. I don't like to be in this constant alpha male cockfight. Okay. And so it's that kind of thing of I just like to be around good people, nice people. I will say, don't do that, come down, you know. I can— you can't calm down and I can't be wound up, so we have to accept that. We need to resolve this. I've got no time for, or don't want to get rid of my energy by being in a constant state of conflict. And there's just no need for it. You push me in front of me at the bar or the pub, I'll go after you. That's it. And that's what happens on the circuit, isn't it? Yeah. And people don't, you see, it's nothing like the music. No. It's nothing like theater, it's nothing like film. People really don't understand the comedy circuit, do they? You know, and you're just giving a hint of what it's like in the green room. It is a fight, it is an unbelievable, unstated psychological fight. Yeah, yeah. There's a great Welsh comic called Phil Doyle who's been going for about 30 years. He does the kind of what's called the mainstream circuit, I guess, and the first time I worked with him Afterwards, I went up to him and said, mate, I've nearly wet myself laughing. That's one of the funniest sets I've ever seen. And when we got to know each other, he said, that day when you said that to me, no one had ever been that complimentary, and I thought you were gonna take the mickey. I went, no, no, it's genuinely just brilliant, just hilarious. But so often you'll storm a gig, get a standing ovation, go into the green room, and people ignore you. And whereas I say, well done, Yeah, other comedians do that. In the early, early days of Jongleurs when I was running it, I was able to interact with all the comedians on that one-to-one level. As we grew, that made it very difficult, but also as it grew, so you get different styles of people coming in because they realized just how successful they could become, and we've seen that on television recently. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You know, and the amount of money, but how do you cope with that? I think that you put it into perspective. Most comics were not very successful people before they got into comedy, in my opinion. So they were the kids at school who would be on the outside, couldn't make friends, so they made their own world. And it's that ability to be on the outside and make their own world which means they can say things on stage that your regular punter couldn't say. But I've— I can go to a party and hold court. I will be the guy that will, you know, make people laugh. Like I said, I had girlfriends. A lot of comics were very unsuccessful with women before they go into comedy. So I see myself very much as part of the audience. I get on stage and I just direct the audience to what we've all thought. Right. But also I've heard comedian and a very successful comedian say, you know, it's the only place I really get it right on stage. So that actually is agreeing with what you say. Yeah. They get it right on stage, but then they're not really asking for a response apart from laughter. And as we see that the most outrageous things can still get laughter even though they're outrageous and potentially wrong. But as a circuit, it's very difficult to monitor that. I monitored it as much as I could, but, you know, very difficult to monitor everybody's, you know, thought process. But yeah, I think again You know, it's your, your lineups and your venues were very much reflective of the society that we, that we live in. So I used to love going to Leicester and Bristol because you have a diverse audience and more importantly, a diverse bill. And now they're talking about let's have more people of color and women and gay people on. Well, you were doing that 20 years ago. Oh, easily, right from the beginning. So why wasn't anyone else? I don't under— I don't understand that. I'd love to talk more about the comedy circuit, and if there's time at the end, we'll go back to that, John. But you have done and you do other great things, don't you, in the well-being and mental health? You're a presenter, you're a speaker, you know, you're an advisor to businesses. Let's get into some of those areas of your life. So because I got my degree and then I did a master's, and, and I did that as a hobby because it's just like learning, Um, and then I had work experience, started doing comedy, but I never really saw myself as a comedian. I didn't want to get onto that lovely Apollo, uh, 10 Cats, Mock the Week route. And I'm not saying that because I couldn't, because as we both know, I could have, but I, I, that weren't for me. I just used to think, I'm on stage and 500 people are listening to me, if I can just say one thing that's going to make them think then let's see if I can sneak one little thing in. And then someone asked me if I'd be interested in doing some, some stuff about men's health. And they— I think some of the other comics they approached were much further up the tree than me, um, but I said I'd do it. And we went into working men's clubs, gay and lesbian centers, Jewish societies, Islamic, uh, clubs, Afro-Caribbean centers. And my thing is people are people are people. And because of my upbringing, I'm as comfortable around a Pakistani Muslim as I am around a Welshman, because people are people and we are all the same people. And I learned then that if you can make people laugh, you can make them listen. And so then it snowballed from there, really. And tell us where you are today. I guess where I— it's very funny actually because I get regularly approached to do a project. Someone, they'll hear about me. I don't have a manager, I don't advertise, it's just word of mouth. Um, other comics have now cottoned on to the fact that there's money to be made from, especially from mental health, so I say good luck to them. I then just do interesting work. I'm currently working on a project called One in Six, which is about how 1 in 6 men have been the victims of sexual abuse. Now, there's no comedy in that, but what we'll do is we'll find stories in a narrative and put on an evening where we will raise awareness and hopefully get other guys to open up. I have that on the go, and my other project is using comedy to get people with depression who've been out of work long-term to work on their confidence skills. Mm, fabulous. I do think that— the only thing that saddens me slightly is that now we're becoming a little bit more divided, you know, that you've got the men's mental health and women's mental health. Yeah. But I'm very much one like you, which is we're all people underneath it all, and perhaps we could expose knowledge and so on. But the work you're doing is so profoundly important. And, you know, in my PhD, I do talk about that. Yeah, I think it's more about that I have, you know, I don't, it's not that I don't care, but I don't fear. And I think that that fear is what stops us all from succeeding and doing. I have a list on my wall, okay. Obviously, one right up there at the top, believe it or not, was to do Jonglers. That was a big thing for me. But I've got things like I wanted to write a TV show, I wanted to do panto, I wanted to do Hackney Empire, I wanted to do a cruise ship, and I've been ticking them off over the years as we've gone on. So I set myself targets and I challenge myself with a higher expectation. So I want to do better. And what is that? What is your— is there an ultimate goal that you have? I'd like to write and appear in a musical, and I'll do it. I will do it. I love that. I love that. There are actually quite a few people I know— I love musicals, absolutely love— and actually I was given a part in a musical, interested in a panto, actually singing, dancing, when I chose to do genres instead because I thought I'll never ever be as brilliant as I want to be. But yes, I did tread the boards briefly. Okay, coming back to your life, you moving on and you move on with such determination and authenticity. People use that word. But what I'm saying is, you know, you want to achieve something and you go with that. You don't go for the glitter and the glamour, although your life is glamorous and full of glitter. If you wanted it to be, you choose it not to be if you don't want it to be. So you've got that, I want to be with real people who do real things. But there must have been a time when you went through very, very difficult times. But I think that, you know, everybody goes through difficult times. We should just call them times because who knows what my next phone call might be. My son, when he was 2 years of age, woke up one morning and he couldn't move. I just had my second son then who was only a week old, and so I spent a week in hospital with my baby boy, and, um, it's awful. And I still very occasionally will get a flashback and wake up in the night because I hear him screaming when he had a lumbar puncture, and it haunts me, haunts me. But I don't shake and like, I just deal with it. And just look at where he is now, a branch secretary of a trade union. I'm very, very proud of him. He's an amazing young man. But when I see him, I still see my little boy in that hospital. It's a very powerful image. But do you— is that because you understand? From my experience, and I was talking to a psychotherapy therapist friend of mine, that sometimes it's not just the, um, you know, the therapeutic knowledge which you have to have actually for deep therapy, but also the relationship that is so powerful. So, and do you understand that? Is it because you understood that that is a trauma for you and you know what's happening to you? I think so. But last week he had COVID and I messaged him every day going, look, I'm not gonna message you every day forever, but just let me know that you're okay every day. Yeah. My other kids, I mean, I love them all, and I have different relationships with each of them, but it's just that that boy taught me how to love, and I thought I was going to lose him. And was that the biggest turning point? Yeah. Well, that's a big deal, isn't it, to lose your child? And the potential of that is phenomenal. And again, it was sort of in the, you know, family history as well. It sort of echoes with your— the loss of your brother. Where's your sister? We lost her sister. Oh, a sister. Yeah. So that was also brought to the fore, which is so powerful for anybody. Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know, and for you to have to deal with that. Yeah. It's amazing. And you just, but the thing is, you, it's about you keep going. I can't remember who it was told me when I was very young, because when I worked in the old folks home, which is what it was called then, washing the dishes and all the rest of it. I was only from 15 onwards, and I always remember meeting— I can still remember from 30, 40 years ago, um, some of the people that I cared for. And this one woman said to me, the secret of life is to always keep moving. Just keep moving, don't sit still. If you move, your heart pumps easier, all your body moves, everything works. But also you don't get time to dwell on stuff and you will advance. And most people, they don't keep moving. So you'll be ahead of the game. Yeah. And you mean moving not only physically, but mentally? Physically, yeah. Everything. Everything. Do just keep— yeah, the psychoevolutionary nature of everybody, we must keep moving forward. I totally agree with you. And, you know, find— if you've got stuck in one area, find one area that you can continue in. You know, gain some knowledge and gain some traction and move forward. And you seem to do that, thank you. I just— so during lockdown, when the world ended and nobody had any work, I put my stuff online, which brought me down to like 1 or 2 days a week. And then I built an extension. I decided I was going to learn how to drive a digger, hired a digger, and dug the foundations myself. And then learn how to put pipes together and all the rest of it. Some of it based on the experiences I had as a child working with my dad, but I just went, yeah, I could do that. Because you observed it as well. There's a lot of people that don't do anything physical at the moment. I think that's a real danger for anxiety, particularly for men. You know, they don't know how to do woodwork or dig a hole or make something physical, you know. Literally use their hands because our hands are so powerful. Yeah, well, many of these profound things, very simple things I was told, again mainly from working with older people. Every morning, make your bed because then you can look at it and go, I've achieved something. I've done something. And actually it's interesting because I did work as a— I volunteered as a 17-year-old in, uh, Leavesden Asylum, which is what it was called. People say, don't say that. No. It was called an asylum. And in the women's ward, where we had all sorts of women, some were just, you know, sort of illegitimate children, some were, you know, born with various deformities and some extreme deformities, some were blind and some were— had Down syndrome, and they were all in one ward. And it was the blind lady that would oversee my making the beds. And she could tell by putting her hand across the bed whether I've made it well or not. And she used to say, "No, redo that." And it was great actually. It gave me a sense, an understanding of how powerful her senses were at that moment. But they do say that for soldiers, don't they? Every day, keep to the discipline of your day, which is exactly my thinking. You know, if you're going through stress, Get up at a certain time, go to bed at a certain time, keep that order, keep that discipline, put things into your diary that you must do. Yeah, in that time. But then people will say, 'It's easy for you to say that,' and I'll say, 'Yeah, it is easy for me to say it because I do it and it works.' Yes, exactly. So when I do my talks, especially the mental health talks, I start by being very clear and saying I've got no lived experience of depression or anxiety. I'm not a clinician or a practitioner. These are things that I do that work for me. And if you've got things that can help me, please do. And then in them telling me, everyone else in the room hears it. But I think that's so important. And men do listen to men. There is this sort of magnetic thing that men listen to men rather than women. Although I have a lot of men in my therapy, uh, which I love. I love working with both men and women. But coming back to the sexual assault that you're dealing with, and this is such It's tragic what's happened. And I think that we all used to talk about— and there is prevalence of sexual assault for women and in the sex trade, which we can't go into now— but I've heard more and more of young men that were sexually assaulted. Yeah. And it continues for the whole of their lives, doesn't it? And again, as I said, I've got no personal experience. However, Several of the kind of men in my life I'm close to have been through it, and it's just something that's not talked about. And I guess, you know, my mum's thing was if you talk about things, you open Pandora's box. You know, which is probably why I talk about things, the elephant in the room. But you've got to, you've got to. And I think, I think it's great what you're doing with them. And I think that the men I know that have been sexually assaulted and sexually abused. And let's, you know, those two words are absolutely apt: abuse, assault. It's a violation against the sanctity of young people's bodies, and it has turned people away from what they were doing. You know, in the football industry, it was prevalent, and we're seeing that over and over and over again, how that one person who was a coach could have abused and assaulted and, you know, created a trauma in so many young people's lives, thousands of young people. One of the things that's been, um, an eye-opener for me though is— so that what we do is whenever I do any of my projects, so, you know, PTSD or men's health or mental health or children's mental well-being, I, I talk to people who've got lived experience and then shape it into either a comedy show or a script or some sort of art performance. And the thing that's really— I was gobsmacked by was how many of the guys I've spoken to have been victims, didn't see themselves as victims, they saw themselves as willing and active participants. And if anything, that's made them feel even worse. Of course, because they feel guilty that they've entered into it. Yeah, because they didn't realize at the time that they were being abused or assaulted or violated. And, um, it's just horrendous, just, just horrendous. And I've had a couple of guys, comics obviously, who, uh, have got some smart-ass things to say about it. Um, and you go, no, it's not funny, it's not a subject for humor. No. But they go, no, no, you can love anything. A few years ago, maybe 4 or 5 years ago, some of the girls on the circuit were trying to organize— I think it was Angela Barnes who did it— tried to organize, um, uh, a fund so that all the women performing Edinburgh got a free cab ride home so that they got home safely. And straight away some of the blokes, well, what about men? Men get sorted as well. And when I said, well then, let's do a benefit gig for men and let's put on a— none of them wanted to do it because they just want to moan. It's so true. But coming back to the essence of what you're doing here. How do you feel, not about this particular subject, because you're being drawn to subjects and people want you involved in helping them because of your sensitivity, your ability, and you're not only sensitive, but you care so much. Does that help you? I think it does. I think, I think because of how I look and sound, that, that kind of throws people a little bit at first. I've turned up for workshops and they've thought I'm one of the clients. I'm like, no, no, mate, I'm running it. Yeah, that's so interesting you say that. I have the opposite view. Nobody ever, ever, because of the way I speak, believed that I was brought up 6 months in one room on the council estate. No, no, right. So one way or another, you can't win, can you? No, but I remember going into a prison doing mental health in prison stuff. And I went in and the prison officer, when I checked in, said, who are you? I said, I'm John Ryan. He goes, what, so are you like film crew? I went, no, it's my project, mate. I'm the guy behind it. Oh right, yeah, we weren't expecting you. I went, what do you mean you weren't expecting me? He goes, no, well, you know. And they're pointing at this kind of weedy, nerdy sound man. Thinking, so who's he? He's just Jeff, there's a sound guy. Yeah. All right. And it's that whole thing about I like to challenge perceptions. I believe in evolution, not revolution. But I do think that sometimes someone needs to go, stop, this is wrong. Can you not see this is wrong? But people aren't willing to do that. They're willing to wait for you to say it's wrong and then all jump. Yeah. But I do think I think, and I did say this to somebody else I was talking to, Ian Shaw, the comedian, and also the brilliant singer, I love his voice, uh, jazz singer. He— we were talking about if you're going to tear something down, I always like to replace it with something. Have an alternative in place, you know. What is the alternative that can be put there that is much better than where we are at the moment? And I do think instead of people— if they moan, and I like that, let's moan, let's say there's something wrong and then make something better. What is the alternative? What can we create out? And it's very much the healing process, as you've said, you know, to find that piece of work, to find that piece of music, to find the art that you're creating through your pain, uh, that you can make the world into not only sort of a better place, but you're providing something far, far more transformative. Yes. In anything you're feeling and doing. Yeah, I remember at school the Muslim kids wanted to have a prayer room and the parents just said, well, what if they want to live here? Why do they get to go and pray 5 times a day? And so I said, well, then why don't we just have a prayer room for Christians? And I remember my mate saying, don't suggest that, we don't want a prayer room. I went, all right, so you actually just— it's not that you think they're getting treated better, You, you just don't want them to be treated different. And my thing is, if they want to go and pray 5 times a day, well, good luck to them. If you want to join them, they'll let you. But it's the whole thing about I don't recognize differences as being as important as similarities. But also there is a difference in the whole world. People are different. And now because we're going global and we are being forced to be global because of, you know, sort of the refugee crisis and I don't, you know, we're not going to go into everything now, but people are moving so much more quickly, but we do not have a global mindset. No. Yes. And I think that needs to be established, a global mindset, a global way of dealing with each other, respecting each other's differences, as you say, and to create that commonality where you say, okay, that's your belief and that's fantastic and you live your life in a good way. And you need to pray 5 times a day, I might pray 5 times a day differently. Yeah, or I might just go off 5 times a day and have 10 minutes of me time. Yes, whatever it is that people do, and that some people meditate and successfully, and whatever people do, just accept that and let people— yeah, but there's no common ground that's being developed at the moment and no common mindset, and that's a little bit sad and tragic. But my main point also, one of the points I was making today is, is there comedic gain from pain in your experience? I think so, because I was at Charlie Chaplin who said laughter takes away, takes the edge off the vicissitudes of life. Yeah. And where there is pain, it's a coping strategy. And again, a few times I've been been asked, is it appropriate to make people laugh if you're talking about suicide or mental health? Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. I mean, you go, well, absolutely it is, because if we weren't meant to laugh, Mother Nature would have evolved it out of us. Yeah. Same with depression and anxiety. If we weren't meant to have it, it would have evolved out of us, like we don't have tails anymore. So whilst we have to accept there will be anxiety, there will be depression, there will be neurodiversity, we've also got to accept that nature will come up with ways of helping us to ride these things out. And laughter is one of the most important tools that we have in our armory. Absolutely. And there are, you know, so animals don't laugh. We sometimes see animals that, apart from the hyena, of course. Yeah. But generally, you know, we do have that facility, that ability to laugh. And I love that aspect. And you can laugh actually. And I love comedy, you know, sort of. Yeah. And finding the appropriate comedy for you that makes you laugh. But to also, how do you feel when you've made people laugh? Sometimes I feel confused because I'm telling you something I believe in and then you're laughing and I'm thinking, what, what, what is it that's funny about it? There must be my face or my timing, or— I don't write jokes, I merely say things that people relate to and then they laugh and go, yeah, I do that too. Yeah, but Sean Mayo, I remember Talking to Shaun, he also helped me when I did my 10-minute stand-up, which was one of the most profoundly mind-altering experiences I ever had, because he helped me write a little bit of my stand-up, which was altered slightly because you always alter it in the way you speak, but I only did it once, but it was so important. And he— I would watch him take a subject and edit it in his own way, and he's a brilliant writer. And I was editing my work and thinking, how do I present myself? How does this become funny? And as you know, on stage, what you think is funny doesn't always connect with everybody and so on. So you have to go through that program, don't you? You have to go through that experience of getting on stage, standing in front of an audience and experiencing that. It's such an amazing feeling and also the most scary feeling. It is, but also from my point of view, it— I, I want it to be we, we all laugh with, not at. Absolutely. And so when I think of things that may or may not be funny, my first thing is always to go, is this going to hurt someone? Because this whole thing about, oh, woke is killing comedy— well, I've been woke all my life, but it's just that thing of realizing there's a difference between getting a cheap laugh and getting a laugh that we can all enjoy together. And words are powerful, and comedy is a weapon, but it's like a superpower we can choose to use for good or for bad. And how long does it take you to write something? It just depends. I get an idea pop into my head and think, well, actually, yeah, that would make— that makes sense. I can put that in with that bit there. So this thing about long-term depression, I'm thinking about all the things you could do while you're doing nothing, and I'll just make a list of very abstract things, and from those abstract things we'll get some comedy but also some practical tips. And is there a piece of your own comedy that you are so proud of, you thought, wow, I wrote that? I, um, yeah, I, I was once Again, going back to the prison, they gave me a form. It was like 40 pages long and the first question was, what's your ethnicity? And I said, what do you mean? They said, where are you from? I said, what, I've come from Essex. No, no, where are you from originally? I said, well, originally I'm from the same place as everybody else on the planet. I'm from Sub-Saharan Africa. And over a couple hundred thousand years, we migrated north across the Serengeti as the ice receded, moved into southern Europe. The sun wasn't as intense, so I lost the pigment in my skin. Some of our family moved towards India and Pakistan, which is why my blood group is B. Then Genghis Khan's hordes took us across northern Europe, through Scotland, through Ireland. I'm from Essex, mate. And the guy actually clapped. The prison officer actually clapped. He went, mate, that's brilliant. Bless. I love it. And in that, I've summed up who I am, where I'm from, and what I believe. Yeah, but it's philosophical, and that is the joy of humor. I think so. And that's what you're bringing to the world, and that is so amazing. So I— now we have to tie up, but John, I know our conversation could have gone on for a lot longer, but thank you, John Ryan. You who is a presenter, a speaker, a comedian. If you get a chance, please go and see John perform, but also get in touch with him if you have any projects that John can help with. And you are profoundly instrumental in helping heal the world. So thank you. Thank you. My website is happytohealthyou.com.