For a plant that arrived in Hawai‘i as a stranger, gotu kola (Centella asiatica) has become a cherished friend in my Kaua‘i garden. I first planted this low creeping herb knowing it wasn’t native to the islands, yet hopeful it would take to the soil. With slow tending—regular weeding, generous watering, a spot of shade—I watched as gotu kola responded with generosity and expansion. Its round emerald leaves fanned out to form a verdant carpet, as if rewarding my care with its abundance. In those moments of tending, I felt a connection not only to the plant itself, but to the lineage of growers and healers across the world who have revered gotu kola for ages. This personal bond inspired me to delve deeper into the cultural roots, healing benefits, and spiritual significance of gotu kola. In this post, I share that journey—from ancient Asian traditions to the plant’s humble presence in my Hawaiian garden—offering cultural insight, scientific highlights, and reflective wisdom from an indigenous-minded grower’s perspective.
Cultural and Traditional Roots of Gotu Kola
Gotu kola has been treasured across Asia for millennia, earning epithets like “herb of longevity” and “brain tonic” in traditional medicine. This unassuming little plant—also known as Indian pennywort, brahmi, pegaga, among many names—features prominently in the healing practices, folklore, and even cuisines of India, China, Indonesia, Sri Lanka, and beyond. Understanding its ethnobotanical significance means journeying through these cultures to see how gotu kola has been used and honored through history.
In Ayurvedic Tradition (India and South Asia)
In India’s Ayurvedic medicine, gotu kola is known in Sanskrit as Mandukaparni (literally “frog-leaf,” reflecting its shape) and is sometimes identified with brahmi, a name signifying sacredness or knowledge. Ayurveda holds gotu kola in high esteem as a Rasayana – a rejuvenating, anti-aging herb used to promote longevity and vitality. Texts as old as the Sushruta Samhita (an ancient Ayurvedic compendium) mention Mandukaparni, indicating its use since prehistoric times in South Asia.
Traditional Ayurvedic healers prized gotu kola for its ability to heal wounds and skin conditions – it was a remedy for ulcers, eczema, psoriasis and even the challenges of leprosy. It was also taken internally as a “medhya rasayana,” meaning a brain tonic that enhances memory, intellect and mental clarity. Ayurveda teaches that gotu kola is light, cooling, and bitter, helping to balance excess Pitta and Kapha doshas (the fire and earth elements) and having a special affinity for nourishing the mind and nervous system. As an anecdote of its esteemed status, one classical Ayurvedic preparation claims to “improve memory and intellect and impart a celestial glow to the complexion,” hinting at gotu kola’s reputation for both mental and skin rejuvenation.
Beyond medicine, gotu kola has quietly been a part of daily life. It grows wild in rice paddies and damp areas of the Indian subcontinent, and people often eat a few leaves fresh or blended into green chutneys and health tonics. In some regions of India and Bangladesh, families would say a few fresh leaves a day help “keep the mind sharp.” Modern research suggests this folklore has truth – gotu kola is rich in compounds that support cognitive function and calm the nervous system. Little wonder that yogis and monks in India have used gotu kola for generations, consuming it before meditation or yoga practice to enhance concentration and support a sattvic (clear and harmonious) state of mind. Renowned herbalists like Dr. David Frawley even call gotu kola “the most spiritual of all herbs,” a plant that not only heals the body but also awakens the mind’s higher faculties.
In Chinese Medicine and East Asian Lore
Traveling east, gotu kola also appears in the annals of Chinese medicine, where it’s called Ji Xue Cao (积雪草) among other names. In Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) classification, it falls under herbs that “clear heat and relieve toxicity” – essentially a cooling herb for inflammatory conditions. Chinese herbal texts over 2000 years old record Centella asiatica as a remedy for ailments like fever, sore throat, urinary tract infections, and hepatitis. TCM doctors used it both internally and externally: the leaves for “turbid” fevers or detoxifying the body, and poultices of the plant for skin ailments, boils, and poor healing wounds. There is even mention of gotu kola being used to treat snakebite and combat fatigue in ancient China, speaking to its broad use as a sort of cure-all in folk practice.
Gotu kola’s status in China is perhaps best encapsulated by its legendary nickname, “Miracle Elixir of Life.” This title stems from its reputation as a longevity herb. A famous tale often cited is that of Li Ching-Yun, a Daoist herbalist and martial artist who was said to have lived well over 200 years (some accounts say 256 years!) by consuming an herbal diet that prominently featured gotu kola. While we can’t verify such extremes of longevity, the story reflects how strongly the Chinese associated gotu kola with prolonging life and vitality. Indeed, Chinese villagers traditionally would brew it into teas or eat it fresh, believing it “keeps the body young.”
Southeast Asian Folk Uses and Culinary Traditions
Moving into Southeast Asia, gotu kola continues to weave itself into both the folk medicine and the kitchen. The plant is native to much of Southeast Asia, carpeting rice fields and rainforest floors, and people found plenty of ways to welcome it into their lives. In Indonesia and Malaysia, gotu kola (known as pegagan in Bahasa or daun pegaga) has long been used as an herbal tonic. Javanese healers traditionally drank it as part of jamu (herbal health drinks) and used it to treat wounds and improve memory, mirroring the uses seen in India and China.
In Sri Lanka, gotu kola is practically a beloved food group. Locals there regularly consume it as a leafy green, most famously in gotu kola sambol, a refreshing salad of finely chopped Centella leaves tossed with grated coconut, chili, lime, and salt. This dish is so popular that it’s often called a national staple. Rich in vitamins and bursting with green vitality, it’s both a tasty side and an easy daily dose of herbal medicine. Sri Lankans also blend gotu kola into a porridge called kola kenda (with rice and coconut milk) as a nourishing breakfast or convalescent food, and they have a saying: “Two leaves a day keep old age away.” This proverb, passed down in Sinhalese, was inspired by the observation that elephants — famed for their long lives and memory — love to eat gotu kola; hence, people believed just a couple leaves daily could impart longevity and cognitive strength. Even today, many Sri Lankan elders will swear by their morning gotu kola as a key to staying sharp.
Throughout Southeast Asia, you’ll also find gotu kola in the markets as a beverage. In Thailand it’s called nam bai bua bok and in Vietnam nuoc rau ma – both essentially pennywort juice, a bright green cold drink made by blending the fresh leaves with water. Street vendors sell it over ice as a cooling tonic on hot days. It’s slightly bitter, so often a touch of sweetener is added, but it’s cherished as a traditional “heat-dispelling” drink to reduce inflammation, aid digestion, and clear the complexion from within. In rural villages of Cambodia and Laos, mothers might instruct their children to nibble some gotu kola if they have a stomach upset or fever. Across this region, gotu kola is a readily available, “cooling” herb that bridges the line between food and medicine – a true ethnobotanical treasure. As one tropical ethnobotanist quipped, if you see a patch of gotu kola in Southeast Asia, someone is likely tending it or harvesting it, knowing its worth.
From India’s Ayurveda to the kitchens of Colombo and Bangkok, gotu kola’s cultural significance is richly layered. It’s a plant that has fed people’s bodies and spirits for generations – a humble weed to some, but to others a sacred herb of wisdom, a trusted healer for wounds, and a tasty salad green all in one. These traditional perspectives set the stage for understanding why modern herbalists and scientists have turned their attention to gotu kola’s healing properties with such interest.
Skincare and Healing Benefits: From Ancient Remedies to Modern Science
One of the most celebrated aspects of gotu kola – both historically and today – is its ability to heal the skin and support the body’s tissues. Traditional medicine systems recognized early on that this plant had a special talent for repairing wounds and soothing skin problems. Now, contemporary research has shed light on how and why gotu kola works as a dermal healer and anti-aging ally.
Historical uses for skin: In Ayurveda and folk medicine, gotu kola was a go-to remedy for stubborn skin ailments. Ancient Ayurvedic texts recommended it for kushta (leprosy and other skin diseases), noting that it helped even lesions and sores to recover. By the 19th century, British and Indian pharmacopeias formally listed gotu kola for treating skin conditions like varicose ulcers, eczema, psoriasis, lupus, and leprosy, both by ingesting and applying poultices. Likewise, French doctors in the 1880s embraced it, formulating gotu kola extracts (often called “Madecassol” in Europe) to treat wounds and burns.
Modern understanding: Today we know gotu kola owes its skin-healing prowess to a suite of triterpene compounds – notably asiaticoside, madecassoside, and their related acids. These natural chemicals boost the production of collagen (the protein that gives skin and connective tissue their integrity) and stimulate fibroblast cells which knit together new skin. In one classic pharmacological study, asiaticoside extracted from gotu kola “substantially hastened the healing of experimentally induced wounds” in animals. It appears to do this by triggering our bodies’ own repair processes – increasing antioxidants at the wound site, ramping up the synthesis of collagen and certain growth factors (like FGF and VEGF), and improving blood supply to the injured tissue. The result is faster regeneration and stronger, more elastic skin in the healed area. It’s not an exaggeration to say gotu kola helps rebuild skin from the ground up. Healers of old witnessed it, and lab studies now document it: applied topically or taken internally, gotu kola can markedly improve wound healing, burn recovery, and even reduce scarring.
Beyond wound care, gotu kola has general benefits for skin wellness that have made it a superstar ingredient in modern skincare (you might have noticed the surge of “Cica creams” in beauty stores – that’s gotu kola!). Here are some of the key skincare and healing benefits attributed to gotu kola, as understood through both traditional use and scientific studies:
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Accelerates wound healing and scar repair: Gotu kola promotes collagen formation and better circulation to damaged areas, helping wounds, burns and ulcers heal faster. This can also lead to smoother, less visible scars over time. In fact, hospitals have used gotu kola extracts to treat post-surgery scars and prevent keloids, with good success.
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Calms inflammation and soothes skin conditions: The herb’s compounds have anti-inflammatory effects, reducing redness, swelling and irritation. People with eczema, psoriasis, or acne often find gotu kola creams or balms helpful for easing flare-ups, as it calms sensitive skin and promotes skin repair. In Ayurvedic terms, it “cools” the skin, aligning with its traditional use for inflammatory skin problems.
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Hydrates and strengthens the skin barrier: Gotu kola is rich in antioxidants and also seems to boost the skin’s production of glycosaminoglycans like hyaluronic acid, which help the skin retain moisture. Modern dermatologists note that Centella asiatica helps the skin barrier hold onto hydration and reduces transepidermal water loss, making it wonderful for dry or environmentally-stressed skin. Traditionally, herbal oil infusions of gotu kola were applied to keep skin supple – now we understand it was supporting the barrier function.
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Anti-aging and firming: By stimulating collagen and fighting free radicals, gotu kola can improve skin elasticity and combat some signs of aging. Studies suggest it may reduce the appearance of fine lines, wrinkles and photoaging damage over time. It’s even been used in products targeting cellulite and stretch marks, given its firming action on connective tissue. While more research is ongoing, the early evidence echoes the age-old notion of gotu kola as a youth-preserving herb.
It’s truly fascinating to see how modern skincare science is catching up to ancient wisdom. What Asian grandmothers knew from experience – that a little gotu kola makes the skin glow and heal – is now formulated into serums and ointments worldwide. Dermatology experts have taken note especially thanks to the influence of Korean beauty trends: Centella asiatica became a cornerstone of “gentle” K-beauty formulations aimed at nurturing the skin. Over just the past decade, Centella went from a quiet supporting ingredient to a headline act in moisturizers, masks, and serums globally. The irony is that while many consumers are only discovering it now, gotu kola’s skin benefits have been proven over centuries of use in villages and traditional clinics. It’s a beautiful example of ethnobotanical knowledge enriching modern wellness.
As someone who works with this plant directly, I am continuously amazed by its healing mana. I’ve crushed fresh gotu kola leaves to make a quick poultice for a scrape and watched it prevent bruising; I’ve brewed it into teas and felt the subtle anti-inflammatory ease in my body. This little groundcover that quietly proliferates next to my pineapple sage, holds a potent medicine chest for those who take the time to learn its ways.
Spiritual and Symbolic Significance: A Herb of Enlightenment and Longevity
Gotu kola’s significance goes beyond the tangible realm of physical health. In many of the cultures that cherish this herb, it is also imbued with spiritual symbolism and used in pursuit of higher consciousness. Perhaps it is the clarity of mind it confers or the longevity it promises, but gotu kola has earned a reputation as a herb that nourishes not just the body, but the spirit.
In the Ayurvedic and yogic tradition, gotu kola is considered a supreme sattvic herb – sattva meaning purity, harmony, and illumination. There is a belief that it opens the crown chakra (Sahasrara), which in yogic anatomy is the energy center at the top of the head associated with connection to the divine. Ayurvedic lore holds that by improving circulation to the brain and calming the nervous system, gotu kola settles the mind into a meditative state. It’s no coincidence that sages and monks included gotu kola in their diet to aid meditation and prayer. Even today, some practitioners will drink a cup of brahmi/gotu kola tea or juice before their morning meditation, using the herb as a gentle guide into mental clarity.
The Sanskrit name Brahmi, sometimes applied to gotu kola, is telling – Brahman in Sanskrit refers to the ultimate reality or cosmic consciousness, and an herb worthy of that name is thought to enhance one’s connection to higher wisdom. One ancient text extols gotu kola as so divine in its effects that it is “brahmi” – godlike. In folklore, it’s said that gotu kola grew abundantly around ancient ashrams, and enlightened masters would advise their students to eat a few leaves a day to improve their capacity for understanding sacred knowledge. The great Indian sage Ayurveda himself is often mythologically depicted holding herbs; one likes to imagine gotu kola might have been among them as a symbol of knowledge.
In Chinese culture, gotu kola was categorized as an herb that “brightens the mind” and was sometimes associated with the concept of nourishing shen, which means the spirit or mind in TCM. A “Shen tonic” in Chinese herbalism is one that calms anxiety, lifts mood, and supports mental focus – by those criteria, gotu kola fits well. Monks in China were said to use gotu kola along with ginseng and other tonics to enhance mental power for practices like Tai Chi and meditation. The Daoist alchemists searching for immortality appreciated not only gotu kola’s physical longevity benefits but perhaps also its ability to keep the mind peaceful and clear, which in Daoist philosophy is a key to longevity of the spirit.
Mythology and symbolism around gotu kola often highlight wisdom, memory, and longevity. We’ve already touched on the remarkable story of Li Ching-Yun, whose legendary lifespan was attributed in part to gotu kola – making the herb a symbol of extreme longevity in Chinese folklore. Similarly, in India, there are legends of yogis who lived for over a hundred years in secluded meditation, sustained by wild herbs like gotu kola and holy basil, their minds razor-sharp even in old age. In Sri Lanka, the elephant – revered for its long life and keen memory – became an emblem tied to gotu kola, leading to that proverb “two leaves a day keep old age away”. The implication is that by taking this plant, one could internalize some of the elephant’s famed qualities. Even the shape of the gotu kola leaf, with its round, lobed form, evokes a human brain if you use a bit of imagination. Folk healers saw a signature there: nature hinting that this plant is brain food, a notion wonderfully aligned with gotu kola’s cognitive benefits.
Another layer of spiritual significance comes from simple observation: gotu kola often grows in calm, shaded, moist places – the quiet edge of a pond or under a Banyan tree – the sort of place one might go to sit and think or pray. In Sri Lanka, I’ve seen it carpeting the ground at a Buddhist temple, as if nature herself laid out a green rug for mindful footsteps. It feels poetic that this unassuming groundcover thrives in places of stillness and imparts stillness to those who partake of it.
In my own practice as a gardener and herbalist, I approach gotu kola with a bit of reverence inspired by these traditions. When I harvest it to make a tea or tincture, I do so with a quiet mind, almost as if I were in ceremony. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I find that if I’m frazzled or hurried, gotu kola’s effect is subtle; when I’m centered and respectful, its effects on my mind are profoundly settling. This aligns with the plant’s reputation as an herb that invites you to slow down and listen – a spiritual teacher in green leaves.
To be clear, gotu kola is not psychoactive or overtly mind-altering; its magic is gentle. It’s more like a wise elder who, with a cup of tea in hand, offers you good counsel and a calming presence. In Hawaiian terms, I’d say gotu kola carries a certain mana, a spiritual presence or power, despite not being a native plant here. It resonates with the concept of la‘au kahea (prayerful medicine) – the idea that the intention and spiritual state you bring to using a plant medicine influences the healing you receive. Gotu kola has a foot in both worlds: the earthy realm of medicine and the subtle realm of spirit. Its ethnobotanical significance is thus not only in curing ailments, but in its ability to inspire a sense of holistic well-being – body, mind and spirit in balance.
Growing Gotu Kola on Kaua‘i: A Personal Reflection on Reciprocity and Plant Mana
My journey with gotu kola took on a new dimension when I began cultivating it in my own garden on Kaua‘i. Here was a plant not originally from Hawai‘i, yet I was determined to welcome it in a manner consistent with the Hawaiian ethos of tending the land. In Hawai‘i, we say “mālama ‘āina” – to care for the land – and the land in turn will care for you. I soon found that gotu kola beautifully embodies this reciprocal relationship.
When I first tucked a few cuttings of gotu kola into a corner of my garden, I selected a place near my other beloved herbs - pineapple sage, rose, butterfly pea, tulsi, pandan. At first, the cuttings looked unassuming – a few scalloped leaves peeking above the soil. I watered them every day and welcomed them in our garden family. This may sound sentimental, but as a grower rooted in indigenous values, I believe every plant, native or not, has a spirit that hears how we approach it.
Over the weeks, the gotu kola took hold. I would crouch down to pull encroaching grass away from its runners. In doing so, I felt I was listening to what the plant needed – space, moisture, light. I encouraged it to grow between my larger plants, and it obliged by forming a dense green carpet that kept unwelcome grass and weeds at bay. It was amazing – this herb that I initially thought of as delicate proved to be a hardy groundcover when happy, protecting the soil as a living mulch. Whenever I cleared some weeds, I’d almost hear an echo of gratitude in the rustle of its leaves. The more attention I gave, the faster it spread, as if responding to the aloha shown.
Gotu kola does require water in our Hawaiian climate, especially in the dry season. On Kaua‘i we get plenty of rain overall, but there are hot weeks where I noticed the gotu kola leaves thinning and browning at the edges – a silent request for hydration. I’ve learned to “watch and listen” to the plants, and sure enough, a good soak brought the patch back to vibrant life. Now, during any droughty stretch, I prioritize watering this herb. By keeping its soil consistently moist, I’ve been rewarded with a nearly year-round supply of lush leaves. In our cooler winter months (cooler is relative here in Hawai‘i), the gotu kola especially thrives, blanketing the area in rich green. It seems to enjoy a little break from intense tropical sun, so partial shade works well – much like how ferns prefer some protection in the hottest part of the day.
Harvesting gotu kola from my garden has become a mindful ritual. In the mornings, when the dew is still on the leaves, I often walk out and pluck a few fresh leaves to chew or to brew in my tea. Sometimes I incorporate them into a fresh pesto or throw them in a green smoothie (after all, they’re packed with vitamins and antioxidants). With each harvest, I make sure never to take too much from one spot – a practice of restraint and respect that aligns with both Hawaiian and other indigenous harvesting protocols. I might take a handful from here, a handful from there, ensuring the mother patch remains dense and can rebound. And I always mahalo the plant. I like to think that such acknowledgments infuse the leaves with even more good energy when I consume them.
One unexpected joy of growing gotu kola in Hawai‘i has been seeing it connect with local knowledge systems. Despite being a newcomer species, gotu kola has a Hawaiian name now: “pohe kula.” The name suggests it’s recognized by Hawaiian herbalists (la‘au lapa‘au practitioners) today, at least enough to be included in the lexicon. Pohe might refer to a coin or round object, and kula often means plain or field – perhaps describing how it coins the plain with green circular leaves. The fact that gotu kola earned a name in the Hawaiian language is meaningful; it signals that the plant has been observed, used, or integrated into some local practices. As a modern practitioner, I’m careful not to appropriate traditional Hawaiian medicine (which has its own cherished native plants), but I do feel that in tending pohe kula with the same respect one would give a native plant, I am living a Hawaiian value of aloha ‘āina (love for the land and its plants), extended to this little immigrant herb.
The idea of reciprocity is at the heart of my experience with gotu kola. By weeding and watering and generally caring for it, I establish a relationship. In return, the plant offers me its multitude of gifts: nutritious greens for sustenance, medicinal leaves for salves and teas, even just the visual gift of a beautiful green cover in the garden that brings me peace. It’s a tangible example of the give-and-take that traditional farmers and herbalists speak of. In Hawai‘i, there’s a saying that the land is chief and we are the servants – if we honor and serve the land (and all that grows on it), it will abundantly provide. My gotu kola patch certainly reinforces that lesson. On days I’m feeling low or scattered, I often end up kneeling by that patch, absentmindedly picking a few weeds or just observing the dewdrops on its leaf umbrellas. It’s grounding. It’s as if the plant says, slow down, breathe, and I will help you. In those instances, the reciprocity moves beyond just physical care – it becomes a spiritual or emotional sustenance. The plant takes care of me as much as I take care of it.
As a maker, I use my homegrown gotu kola in our skincare products. I infuse the leaves in kukui oil to create a green oil that I then use in making our concentrated gotu kola balm. Knowing the plant’s reputation for skin repair, I crafted this balm to use daily on my face and chest. There is a special satisfaction in applying a potent balm that smells faintly herbal-green, knowing that I nurtured the source of that medicine from a tiny cutting to a flourishing patch. It feels full circle.
I also dry the leaves to add to herbal tea blends, often mixing them with other garden herbs like tulsi (holy basil) and mint. Sipping this tea, I can taste notes of earth and a hint of bitterness – it’s like drinking a bit of the garden’s essence. It nourishes from the inside out, much as the cultures in Asia have described for ages.
In tending gotu kola on Kaua‘i, I’ve come to see it as more than an introduced plant; it’s a bridge between worlds. It carries the heritage of Asia’s ancient healing traditions and now grows in the Hawaiian soil that I call home. It has taught me patience (it starts slow, then suddenly creeps far when it’s ready), awareness (one must watch its needs, lest it wither in drought), and kuleana – responsibility – to care for those who feed you. In a subtle way, gotu kola also connects to Hawaiian plants through shared principles: like mai'a (banana) or mamaki, it offers both food and medicine; like kalo (taro), it thrives with water and attention; like kukui, it has a light within it (kukui being a symbol of enlightenment).
Ultimately, growing gotu kola has been a spiritually nourishing endeavor. Each little round leaf reminds me of a miniature lily pad or a tiny green coin – tokens of abundance. And abundant it is; what started as a small clump is now a thriving mat that I have even been able to divide and share with friends (spreading the green gospel!). It feels good to give someone a start of gotu kola with the advice, “take care of it and it will take care of you.” In fact, that might well summarize everything I’ve learned: when we approach plants with respect and reciprocity, they respond in kind, offering their healing and wisdom generously. Gotu kola, the little herb that traveled from afar, has found a welcome home in my garden and a lasting home in my heart.
Conclusion
The ethnobotanical story of gotu kola is as rich and layered as the many roots that anchor its creeping stems. From the ancient Ayurvedic clinics of India to the temples of China, from the kitchens of Sri Lanka to the backyard gardens of Hawai‘i, this humble plant has touched people’s lives in profound ways. It has been a source of medicine for the body, nourishment for the mind, and even inspiration for the spirit. In learning about gotu kola’s cultural and historical significance, I found myself more deeply connected to the global human quest for healing and longevity – a quest that often leads back to the plants around us.
For me personally, gotu kola has been a wise green teacher. It taught me about patience (herbs often work gently and slowly, just as the plant itself grows), about listening (to nature’s signals and the knowledge of elders), and about gratitude (for the abundance that springs forth when we care for living things). Standing in my garden, hands scented with the gotu kola I’ve just picked, I often reflect on how marvelous it is that a plant used by an Ayurvedic rishi or a Chinese healer thousands of years ago is now here with me, still doing what it does best: healing wounds, sharpening thoughts, calming souls.
Gotu kola’s ethnobotanical significance lies not only in books and studies, but in these living experiences and relationships. It’s in the shared folklore and family recipes, the myths of long-lived masters and the everyday practices of villagers, the modern dermatologist’s formulations and the herbalist’s brews. It’s a testament to the idea that nature’s gifts are universal – crossing oceans and cultures – and that some plants carry a resonance that speaks to us all.
As I finish writing, I’ll be making myself a cup of gotu kola tea with a few fresh leaves from outside. It’s my way of saying thank you to this plant ally. With each sip, I taste not just the bitter-green flavor, but the sweetness of a deeper connection – to the land, to ancestral knowledge, and to the quiet wisdom of the plant world. In the gentle ripple of a gotu kola leaf, I find a reminder that healing and insight often come on slow, creeping tendrils, blossoming in their own time, and flourishing greatly when tended with love.