According to the traditional accounts, Bodhidharma, after arriving at the Shaolin Monastery on Mount Song, withdrew from ordinary interaction and took up an austere practice of meditation in seclusion. He is said to have entered a cave or cell near the monastery and sat facing a wall, absorbed in what later came to be called “wall-gazing” meditation. This period is described as lasting nine uninterrupted years, during which he spoke very little and turned away from external distractions in order to confront the mind directly. The image is one of radical inwardness: a teacher who, before offering instruction to others, embodies the very depth of contemplation that his teaching would later transmit. Legends surrounding this nine-year retreat elaborate the intensity of his commitment. Some stories claim that his stillness and concentration were so extreme that his legs withered from disuse. Others relate that, having once dozed off during meditation, he cut off his own eyelids in anger at his lapse, and where they fell, tea plants sprang up—an emblem of wakefulness that supports long hours of practice. These images are not easily read as literal history; rather, they function as symbolic expressions of unwavering resolve and the refusal to compromise with spiritual laziness. In this way, the legend dramatizes the kind of vigilance and single-minded dedication that the Zen tradition holds up as an ideal. The narrative also highlights the relationship between such solitary practice and the later transmission of Zen. During or after this period of wall-facing meditation, disciples and would‑be students approached Bodhidharma, and he is portrayed as testing them rigorously rather than courting followers. The figure of Huike, remembered as his successor and the Second Patriarch, stands out: only after demonstrating extraordinary determination did he gain acceptance as a disciple. Thus, the nine years of meditation are not merely an episode of isolation but a crucible in which the standards of the tradition were set—direct, uncompromising, and grounded in personal realization rather than in scriptural study alone. Within the Zen imagination, Bodhidharma’s nine years before the wall have come to symbolize the heart of the path: “just sitting,” turning away from the play of phenomena to see one’s own nature directly. The story suggests that genuine understanding arises not from elaborate doctrine but from a sustained, wordless encounter with mind itself. Whether or not every detail can be historically verified, the legend continues to serve as a