I am not completely sure that these titles are equivalent or just both apt.
Here is my equanimity practice... the one I reach for most often:
No matter how much I wish things be otherwise, things are as they are.
My practice pleasant or neutral practice: for me, it started as #findbeauty on instagram. And it morphed into being able to walk in quiet, listening to everything that is going on around me.
It means I can hear the birds singing or the bugs buzzing.
On Sunday, it meant watching the busy bees go from flower to flower checking for nectar. And it meant watching Raleigh (neighbor tuxedo cat) as he stalked and tried to pounce on something and then celebrating his chase with him.
I was sitting on the stairs, listening to the birds, enjoying the sunny day from a shady spot somewhat out of view. Raleigh happened by, when I spoke to him, he started, but then went back to stalking. When he was out of view, I decided to follow him. I crouched with him, slowly and quietly padding behind him, letting him know that I was there so he wouldn't start. He was watching, carefully... mindfully something in the bushes. I couldn't see it. He was still as a statue, intent on his prey. I was talking quietly to him, encouraging him to go ahead and pounce. He did, and didn't catch anything, but came over to celebrate with me anyway. He brushed up against my legs and looked up at me for encouragement. I pet him and chatted him up. Then he went back to the bushes to look for his prey again.
In the moment, there is tremendous activity... and it can be pleasant, or neutral or unpleasant. Raleigh's insistence on being in the moment was a gift... pleasant, unpleasant or neutral, it didn't matter to him, just the moment.
For me, forcing myself to stay in the moment is the gift. I have been wound so tight the past few months, and let's be honest, the last four years, that I have given myself precious little room to be in the moment or otherwise.
I am trying to unwind in a way that won't leave me in a puddle in the middle of the floor when next Friday hits and my schedule becomes a little lighter.