There once was something pure, perhaps even naively noble, about psychiatry’s focus on the ethereal mind. Nowadays our thoughts turn to the magisterial brain. The body has never really been our thing. It bleeds when stuck. It excretes foul substances. It oozes puss when infected. It is prone to hideous malformations, hairy moles, crusty growths. We tend to ascribe a higher value, a greater purpose, to our "inner" life of thoughts and feelings and spirituality, but our "outer" life is more than just a shell or a vessel or a machine. A net of nervous tendrils enmesh the brain with the entire body. Typically we believe that the mind-brain gives meaning to the body, but the relationship is reciprocal. In fact, the body must endure the insults of twisted thoughts, chaotic emotions, and demonic spirituality when the mind-brain sputters and goes awry. The body must have its due and the wounded body its respect.